


How to Disappear Completely

by demonjeans



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Angst, Dark Humor, Depression, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts, Tags to be added, manipulative seth, strip club
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-23
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-09-01 19:03:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 22,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8634301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demonjeans/pseuds/demonjeans
Summary: Dean wants to yell, not in anger or any substantial emotion. Feel the raw warmth in his throat. The aftershock trembles in his body. Become empty, truly empty. Screw the past, it’s hanging by a thread and it’s not helping him.





	1. Chapter 1

This isn’t the night Dean was expecting to have. He didn’t have any plans but that wasn’t anything new. That’s essentially how the past year had been. A vague blur of each passing day, the world moving around him while he watched, barely present. 

It’s New Year’s Eve. The house party Sami drags him to is so crowded and loud it only takes a few quick blinks to get lost in the mass of people. And he wants that. Nothing against Sami but Dean knows when he’s a third wheel. That, and there is no fucking way he’s going to stand around like an idiot while Sami and his boyfriend kiss at midnight.

He snatches a bottle of what’s apparently cherry flavored vodka and finds a corner to tuck himself into. The ceiling is strung with leftover Christmas lights blinking in sporadic patterns that clash with the music. He sways along to the beat underneath the multi-colored glow and haze of smoke suffocating the room. Some guy sidles over to him, eyes giving Dean a once over.

Maybe it’ll be a good distraction.

That’s what his life is coming to. Everything pretty much sucks and it’s no one’s fault but his own. And what’s Dean going to do about it? If this past year is any indication, not a goddamn thing. 

Try to stay awake. Fail at that and sleep until he was certain he’d get bed sores. 

Pulling out his phone Dean stares at the lock screen until it goes dark. Does it again navigating his way to his texts and reads over the last conversation he had with… is best friend the right word anymore? 

He and Roman still talk all the time but it’s different now. After they graduated Roman went off to be the big football star everyone knew he was going to be. Dean stayed right the fuck where he was. Got a job as a night stocker and vaguely wondered what it’d be like to drive the forklift right into one of the tall shelving units. Would the collapse be enough to crush him? 

Dean remembers mentioning that to Roman and the following daily texts asking him if he was ok. For a little while it felt nice to be checked in on but then things went back to normal. Roman was busy and Dean was floating in space. It hit him then that despite their words to the contrary they were moving in different directions. In the back of his mind Dean always knew that this was going to happen, he just hoped he’d have a sense of where he was going by then.

He didn’t.

Kicking that thought out of his head Dean climbs upstairs. Every bedroom’s alive with people moaning and grunting with such intensity Dean forgets where he is. The house is shaking. Everyone is having the night of their lives. He ducks into the bathroom and fights down the urge to puke. Coming here was a mistake. Should’ve stay at his apartment, camped out in bed until he had to work. 

“You gonna finish that?” A voice asks from the bathtub. 

Dean startles, pulls back the curtain and is met with a grin. The guy is probably about Dean’s age, just relaxing in the tub like it’s best place to take a nap. He’s got on all black, wearing skinny jeans that on a normal day Dean would laugh at but he’s drunk and miserable so he’ll take his time staring.

“Hey.” He snaps his fingers at Dean, holding out his hand for the bottle. “Gimme.”

He passes over the mostly finished vodka receiving a small nod in thanks.

“You just gonna stand there?”

He wanted quiet, he could tell he wasn’t get that with this guy here and yet Dean sits down on the floor beside the tub. This isn’t such a bad distraction. Watches the other man roll his neck and shoulders, Dean’s eyes drifting up his hair which might’ve been held in a neat bun at the beginning of the night now hangs loose. Bleach blond strands mingling with brunette and it takes all of Dean’s willpower not to pull away the hair tie and watch it all fall to his shoulders.

“I’m drunk.” Dean blinks. How long had he been staring?

“I’m Seth.” He drops the bottle, both of them wincing at the sound.

“No, I, uh…”

“You have really nice eyes. Really fucking blue.” Seth tells him and Dean laughs. 

Dean used to be someone who’d let his words fly. Act first, ask for forgiveness later kind of thing. Somewhere over the last twelve or so months he lost that. Found himself hesitating. Became that cliche of feeling alone while being with people he considered friends. Dean didn’t feel like himself anymore and hadn’t for so long it left him with a whole new conclusion. What if this is who he actually is? Plain, simple, and exhausted. All the bravado and loudness had been high school Dean. Time to grow up and second guess everything he ever felt.

“So you have a name or are you fond of Drunk?”

“It’s Dean.” He says, moves to lean over Seth. “Can I just…”

Reaching up he pulls away the band letting Seth’s hair free. It’s as cute as he pictured. 

Cute? 

Did he just…

“You keep staring like that you might as well kiss me.”

Maybe Dean needs to be shitfaced all the time because he kisses Seth with no hesitation. It’s New Year’s and the entire second floor is packed with people fucking each other’s brains out, he’s allowed to have a simple kiss. And god is it nice, this is the noise killer he wants. Next thing he knows he’s climbing into the tub and Seth is laughing through each cherry flavored kiss. 

Then Seth kicks one of the taps. Ice cold water hits Dean’s back making him gasp. A hand twists the front of his shirt stopping him from pulling away.

“Let go.”

“No.”

The house erupts in noise. It’s midnight. Brand new year. 

He thinks of Sami getting his New Year’s kiss. Roman more than likely having a wild night of his own. Tomorrow they’ll all wake up with smiles on their faces ready to jump into the new year. Dean? He’s stuck in the same spot he’s been in with no end in sight.

“Are you crying?” Seth asks.

“I... I wanna start over.”

“You’re in luck, then.” 

The water starts to warm up as he’s brought in for their own New Year’s kiss, being held in place until he can’t breathe. Dean doesn’t try to move away. Lets the water soak him through and through savoring the taste of Seth’s mouth. And he’s drifting. Lost in it all. When Seth loosens his grip Dean’s shaking, feels more alive than he has in months.

Later, he finds Sami outside on the front lawn. The party’s still going on and while he gets looks of concern from those he arrived with Dean can’t stop grinning.

“What happened to you?”

Dean licks his lips, the lingering taste of cherry still present. “Met someone.”


	2. Chapter 2

All the excitement over a new year feels like bullshit when Dean finds out Seth gave him a fake number. A receptionist answers on the other end asks him if he’s booking a session with Dr. Regal. It’s a nice touch. A brief moment of false hope and a number to a therapist. He honestly considers it before uttering a quick apology and hanging up.

Dean paces around his studio apartment ignoring the accumulating clutter and junk he should be cleaning. It’d at least keep him preoccupied. Most of the time he hangs out in bed, the sofa becoming a catch all for yesterday's clothes. Dean’s pretty sure he’s down to his last few scraps of clothing but he doesn’t have the energy to go to the laundry room. Really the same could be said for his whole apartment. He doesn’t care and why should he? No one ever comes by for more than a minute or says a thing about the place.

Maybe they just expect this out of him. 

Dean groans and collapses on his bed. Start of the New Year and he’s already digging for comfort in the sheets. Absentmindedly grabs his phone about to send some pointless text to Roman when he stops. It’s been a week since they’ve spoken, it happens, especially with Christmas and New Year’s. There’s nothing stopping Dean from texting Roman but he can’t make himself. 

Then the phone comes to life, a number he doesn’t recognize pops up on screen. It’s another temporary distraction so he takes it. Mumbles a tired hello rolling onto his back.

“This is Dean, right?” The voice on the other end asks. “It’s Seth. New Year’s party.”

“I remember. You, uh… yea.”

Half of Dean wants to tell him to fuck off for giving him a fake number. The other half feels a jolt of excitement at being the one getting called.

“You busy tonight?”

He has work in a few hours. Should probably shower and find whatever’s still clean to wear.

“No.” Dean answers, surprising himself.

The problem is he’s been skipping work off and on lately. It’s not a bad gig, gets his work orders and is mostly left alone for the night. He’s simply having some issues actually going to work. His bed is too soft, blankets warm and promising comfort if he only stays a few minutes more. Minutes turn to hours, turn to entire nights where he just doesn’t move. Sometimes Dean dreams of the places he could be. Not work or sitting around with friends putting on a good face.

Someplace different. 

Start over. 

A while later Seth is at his door, same damn grin he had on New Year's. And this look in his eyes like Seth’s been waiting for him, despite technically making the first move. He does so again when Dean attempts to step out into the hallway by putting a hand on his chest. 

“We’ve got all night.” He guides Dean backwards to the bed kicking the door closed along the way. 

It all happens so damn fast. Seth’s undoing their pants and mouthing at his neck. Who’s Dean to complain? 

“Fuck me.” Seth breathes in his ear, nipping along his jaw.

A surge of blood through his veins, skin burning up. He’s achingly hard and Seth’s bending over, ass up begging for it. Dean wanted something new, something to take him out of the mundane hopeless pit he's in and here it is. Back to that feeling from the other night, drifting and being held in place. The satisfying slap of skin on skin along with Seth’s needy moans. He’ll be replaying this in his mind for a solid week. 

When it’s over Seth crawls up onto the bed and collapses on his side. Well fucked and his hair’s a damn mess again. 

“Not bad.”

Dean laughs just like before. “You too.”

He flops down beside Seth not bothering to tuck himself back into his pants. Seth eyes him, blinking slowly, half here and half gone. Dean wants them both naked, run his hands over every inch of the other’s skin. They don’t know a damn thing about each other, yet he’s never wanted someone so fucking bad.

“Why’d you give me a fake number if you wanted to see me anyway?”

Seth narrows his gaze looking a bit lost. “Did I?”

“Yea.”

“Habit, sorry. Didn’t mean to.”

“Habit?”

“Get alotta creeps.” He says, traces circles on Dean’s chest. “Make it up to you when you’re ready for round two.”

Nothing would be better than Seth moaning his name again, fuck him right into the mattress. But his curiosity gets the better of him, he wants to know who Seth is.

“I wanna go out.” Dean situates himself, zipping up despite Seth’s pouty look.

“You don’t seem like the going out type.”

“We met at a party.”

“You hid in a bathroom.” Seth counters. 

“And you were in the tub.”

His laugh makes Dean’s skin tingle all over again. “Like I said, lotta creeps. So, where to?”

“You pick.”

Seth rolls his eyes. “I see what you’re trying to do. Could be a real bad decision, you know. You willing to-”

Dean’s phone starts ringing, fishes it out from his jacket carelessly tossed on the floor. Roman. It’s been a week, maybe he’s worried. Maybe he’s just remembering Dean exists. It’s a sudden too harsh thought that makes him cringe. Seth catches the look, gives a heavy sigh and sits up.

“Your boyfriend?”

“No.” Dean says quickly, lets the call go to voicemail. “Friend. Ready to go?”

“Are you?”

This time he answers by pulling Seth close, a rushed eager kiss shared between them. Dean works his fingers into the other’s hair pulling away the band barely holding it up.

“You like doing that, don’t you?” Seth chuckles climbing off of him. 

Dean glances to the now empty space in the bed. All that’s left is a puddle of cum, his cock twitches at the sight. Thinks of Seth watching him, lips parted and vision going out of focus, laying there while Dean leaks out of him. Maybe round two would’ve been a better choice but Seth’s already heading for the door.

“Hey, you asked to go out.” Seth reads his expression, and that grin is back on his face. “No regrets allowed.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who's left kudos and given this a read. You guys rock <3

No regrets allowed. It’s the kind of thing Dean should roll his eyes at. What is this, some bullshit coming of age movie where he’ll learn the value of friendship and self worth? The actual thing he’s learning is that Seth has this aura about him, this feeling that makes Dean want to go along and not think. A quiet but pressing voice in the back of his mind telling Dean to let go and run with it. 

What else did he have to do, anyway?

He’d spend all night laying in bed watching public access tv, jerk off a couple times, then fall asleep. Rinse and repeat. 

Right now, Seth is leading them down into the shadier side of the city. The scent of stale piss hangs in the air as he’s pulled off into an alley. A shortcut, Seth tells him. Dean’s not really worried, vaguely knows the area, somewhere in this maze of old buildings he and Roman went to see Sami’s band play. They both got drunk as fuck. It was chaos. Fun.

It’s probably why he doesn’t care where Seth is taking him. At least, not at first.

“I don’t do clubs.” Dean says, standing in front of a warehouse. The beat so loud it’s pulsing through the walls. 

“Tonight you do.”

Simple as that.

Maybe it’s that voice in his head, Dean’s conscience, saying, why not? They barely know each other, there’s no precedent to who Dean has to be. He doesn’t have to play up anything. A whole new life right at his fingertips. 

Let go.

Start over. 

Sometimes Dean wakes up just before dawn the nights he skips work. The TV’s on and some motivational speaker is preaching at him. Excitedly yells at Dean to stop being part of the herd. Tells Dean to forge his own trail. Normally, Dean watches the guy hop around while he tries to fall back asleep. Can practically pinpoint the moment he’ll oh so casually bring up his step by step system on how to live a better life. 

Did all that shit finally sink into his brain? Is that why he’s doing this? How long until he’s dancing on stage hocking some self help cure all?

Inside is a mass of people, a sea of moving bodies their warmth surrounding them and they’re still feet away from the crowd.

“See, the fun,” Seth says in his ear, “the fun is in getting lost.”

Dean exhales a laugh raising an eyebrow at him but Seth’s shaking his head.

“I’m not trying to be deep, jackass.” Seth pulls him toward the crowd. “You’ll see, c’mon.”

“Wait.”

“No.”

They slip through the faceless dancing horde making their way to the center. It’s dark, loud, and too hot. From above Dean imagines it must look like a swarming petri dish. People moving and not noticing, everyone so alive, their energy begins to sink into his skin. It’s kind of nice. Then Seth lets go of his hand. He’s gone and Dean’s alone. 

Sure, he’s in the midst of a massive cluster of people but it feels unreal. He’s swallowed whole and spat back out to the beat. It’s impossible to get his bearings. And in comes that little voice asking Dean why he’s so worried. 

Since when did he become so fucking scared of everything?

The next tidal wave of motion rolls in only this time he moves with it. Embrace the endless void of sweating bodies and dilated pupils. The fun is in getting lost. 

Dean wants to yell, not in anger or any substantial emotion. Feel the raw warmth in his throat. The aftershock trembles in his body. Become empty, truly empty. Fuck the past, it’s hanging by a thread and it’s not helping him.

“Having fun?” Seth’s lips press against the shell of his ear, arms around his waist.

“You ditched me.”

“I was around, was watching.”

“That what you’re into?”

“With you maybe. Got this sorta hopeless desperation in your eyes.”

Dean turns pushing away from him. Seth gives a little shrug and mouths, what?

“Fuck you, that’s what.” Dean growls, shoving his way out of the crowd.

Seth grabs him by the wrist tugging him over to a corner.

“I wasn’t trying… You looked sad when we met.”

He was. He is. But he doesn’t need Seth pointing it out to him. 

“You were crying.” Seth says, Dean crosses his arms looking toward the exit.

“I was drunk.”

“So?”

“So don’t act like you fuckin’ know me!”

Seth sighs, purses and pops his lips. “Fine. Call it a night. Go home.”

He should. Go back to his apartment, clean the mess and cum stained sheets.

Back to the life he can’t stand.

“I need a drink.” He mumbles.

“So you can cry and tell me you’re not sad?”

Dean set that up so well all he can do is laugh. Seth isn’t wasting time tiptoeing around the introductory period. Hell, they had just fucked a few hours ago. It doesn’t even feel like the same night. 

Maybe it’s in the way Seth looks at him. The way he did the night they met. This expectant gaze asking if he’s ready to go. Where they end up is still unknown but that’s not the point.

That catchphrase of it being about the journey not the destination runs through his mind. It’s a thing people say because usually someone’s dead or broken by the end of it. 

Why not?

What else does he have to do, anyway?

“Let’s go.”

The bar Seth brings him to has a depressing sort of charm to it. A dive bar trying to claw its way up from criminal to hipster. Red neon lights casting a glow to disguise the less desirable scuff marks while the bar is highlighted in a golden tone like it’s the sun. Sweet slow songs about heartbreak play overhead. The kind a person would put on repeat before slitting their wrists. Not the best selection for repeat customers, he imagines. 

“What do you want?” Dean asks heading to the bar.

“Jack and coke.” He says, then smiles. “Cherry coke. Got a craving.”

Seth leaves him walking off to the back, a slight sway in his hips as he goes. Two jack and cherry cokes. Dean’s more of a beer and straight up kind of guy but since New Year’s his mind keeps wandering to the sweet taste of their first kiss. Finds Seth tucked away in a booth giving him an innocent smile as though he hadn’t called Dean desperate twenty minutes ago. And from the way his phone generally weighs heavy in his pocket Dean would have to agree. 

“Thanks.” Seth slides the glass toward himself, eyes still trained on Dean. “So is this the part where we start getting to know each other?”

Dean’s lips quirk as he takes a sip. “Not interested?”

“We might ruin a good thing.”

“Isn’t much of anything yet.”

“That’s what I mean.” Seth stirs the thin straw in his drink. “A good fuck. The club. Drinks and maybe I’ll blow you in the bathroom. Could keep it simple. A little pick me up.”

Dean doesn’t need a pick me up. He needs an overhaul from the ground up. Seth is playing it cool, but he’s interested in more than just a rush fuck. A whole new life right at their fingertips.

“Maybe I don’t want simple.” He’s becoming a living breathing cliche.

“Ok.” Seth says. “One thing, first.”

“What?”

“Admit you're sad.”

Seth’s eyes lock on his, easy and unflinching. Dean could lie, put on a convincing face, inflect firmness in his voice. The next song plays and it’s one he knows. It hurts. He’s alone, but he doesn’t have to be.

“I’m sad. ...I’m really fuckin’ sad.”

He gets rewarded with a content little hum. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Dean huffs and finishes his drink. “So what’re you?”

Seth glances around the room before landing back to Dean. The playful smile stretching across his lips coupled with the red glow of the room leaves Dean short of breath.

“Hungry.”


	4. Chapter 4

Dean gets a call from his supervisor warning him about missing nights. That he likes Dean, knows he works hard. But as his boss puts it, Dean needs to get his shit together. He bites his cheek hard enough to bleed then bursts into laughter the second the call ends.

He’ll get right on that.

Though, if Dean’s honest, to an extent he is. If finally getting around to doing laundry means anything. The jumble of dirty clothes is now a semi folded pile of clean ones. Mostly he wants the place to be less of a disaster when Seth comes by. Whatever that means.

A few more drinks shared between them last night and Seth started swaying to the music. Told Dean he was in the business of being pretty. Perfectly played innocence, he told Dean, that’s where the real fun is. See what people were really capable of. Before Dean could dive further into the subject Seth pulled him off to the bathroom and gave him that promised blowjob from earlier. Spat against the wall and called it splatter art. 

It had been a nice night. 

Yet, it’s the kind of thing he’s not sure he should tell Roman about when Dean’s phone begins to buzz, his best friend’s name popping up on screen. 

“Hey.” He answers.

“Hey, sorry I haven’t-”

“It’s cool.” Dean cuts in. “Don’t needa say sorry.”

It’s polite and kind but all it does is make Dean feel like some lost kid. Poor Dean, can’t be by himself more than a week because who knows what could happen? He’s being harsh again. It’s not Roman’s fault Dean’s on a losing streak with life.

“You ok?” Roman asks and Dean wants to smack his face into a wall.

It’s not just the worry but that Roman seems to be able to read him sight unseen from states away. 

“Yea, things are alright.” He puts the phone on speaker as he begins cleaning the kitchen. The sound of rushing water catching Roman’s attention.

“You cleaning? Wow, look at you being responsible.” He jokes, earning a genuine chuckle out of Dean.

“Fuck off. Some of us don't have cafeterias or whatever the fuck you have over there.” 

“It’s awful.” Roman says then pauses. “So, I heard you went to a party with Sami.”

Dean grimaces, this is exactly what he didn’t want to talk about.

“I did. Was nice. What’d you do for New Year’s?”

“Nope. Sami said you met someone. I want details.”

Shit.

“It’s not…” He sighs, picks up a steak knife twirling it back and forth with his fingers. “It’s barely anything.”

“Except you’re cleaning your apartment.”

“Don’t you fuckin’ start.” He warns, though there’s a light hopefulness in his voice. 

He looks down at the knife, tongues the bite wound in his cheek and tosses the blade into the drying rack. Really, what he said was the truth. He and Seth… Dean doesn’t know what they are.

“Ok, ok.” Roman laughs on the other end. “He got a name?”

“...Seth.”

 

He can’t focus at all during work. Mind wandering back to the bar, Seth bathed in red light, a promise of something new in his eyes. The restart Dean’s been trying and failing at.

He isn’t paying attention when an entire palette falls from the the shelf crashing to the floor and breaking half the bottles of extra pure fucking fancy cooking oil along with it. Dean’s usually great at talking his way out of bad situations, even when it’s his fault he can regain control easily. So when his supervisor walks over Dean’s already thinking about equipment failures and misplaced weight. Except he doesn’t mention either of those things.

“I quit.”

Dean picks up a case of beer on his way home, ready to drown himself in a heady buzz and try to forget most of his life. It’s nice for a while. Old black and white movies playing on TV and he feels mildly ok. There’s a close up of the main actress and the light’s suddenly changed. 

She’s in this soft glow, looking like an angel. Dean laughs because by now she is. All the actors, so lively on screen, are now dead and buried.

He’s jealous.

Dean takes a long deep breath and without thinking grabs his phone. Roman’s asleep, his voicemail greeting telling Dean to leave a message. He should hang up, drink until he passes out.

“I, uh…” He sounds so shaky it catches him off guard. “I don’t…”

The two leads embrace, looking in one another’s eyes. They mean the world to each other. And now they’re corpses.

“I wasn’t always like this. I…” He blinks, panic kicking in. “I’m drunk. Delete this.”

How could he be so dumb? Now Roman’s going to think he’s lost his mind and it’s Dean’s fault for letting himself get so overwhelmed by a goddamn movie. The phone starts vibrating in his hand and he thinks of throwing it across the room. Roman wasn’t supposed to be awake. He can’t talk to him like this, he can’t. Then he glances at the screen, it’s Seth. The air returns to his lungs and he takes the call.

“Hello?”

“Wondered if you’d be up.” Seth says brightly, a howl of wind muffling his voice. “I’m bored. Can I come over?”

Yes.  
Please.  
Thank you.

“Yea.” Dean answers, swallowing down the emptiness in his tone. “I’ll leave it unlocked.”

He drifts in and out while waiting, mind somewhat at ease. Roman’s still going to call but he can ignore that for at least a few hours. He’ll say he was drunk and got sappy, cover his tracks by laughing at the ridiculousness of it. Not the first time he’s had to. Dean can take care of himself and even if he can’t he’s no one’s burden to deal with.

The scent of cigarette smoke fills his nose snapping Dean awake to find Seth at the edge of his bed.

“Hey, didn’t wanna wake you.” 

“How long you been here?” Dean rubs at his eyes.

“A bit. Sorry about the smell.” He shrugs. “Came from work.”

“Where’s work?”

“Place off the highway.” Seth tosses him a vague answer, kicks at the empty beer cans. “I know I teased you about sad drinking but sheesh.”

Dean exhales a tired laugh. “I, uh, I quit my job tonight. Wasn’t a bad gig, I just… I dunno.”

“Maybe you were bored.” Seth says pulling off his shirt and unbuttoning his jeans.

“What’re you doin’?”

“What do you think?”

Dumb question.

Maybe it’s Seth offering what he called a ‘little pick me up’ or maybe he’s just horny. Either way, that desperate call to Roman is long forgotten while Seth bounces on his lap. Dean lying on his back gaze focused on Seth moaning as he tightens around Dean’s cock. Nails running down his chest. He wraps a hand around Seth’s hardness, pumping in a sloppy rhythm. Watches him give out the most beautiful gasp cumming across Dean’s stomach and chest. Dean doesn’t even realize he came, so enraptured in the moment to care. 

“You look…” Seth takes slow shallow breaths, bites his lip. “You look good like that.”

Freshly laundered sheets now drenched in sweat with a hint of smoke. Cum to follow. 

He’s going to need more detergent.

“I can get you a job.” Seth says a moment later, Dean’s cock still nestled inside of him.

“What?”

"You heard me.” He rocks back and forth causing them both to groan.

“Where?”

A split second of uncertainty crosses his face, gone just as quickly as it appeared. “Strip club.”


	5. Chapter 5

Dean gets hired as a bouncer at the club Seth dances for, this shady off the highway place he’s driven past before and casually wondered how many people may have died there. Probably a solid dozen.

In movies, at the end of the first act conflict will make itself present. Their kind of story, the bouncer and the stripper, some creep usually roughs up the stripper. In comes the bouncer’s hero arc. He takes down the creep and they fall in love. Roll credits. Only, at the end of Dean’s first night on the job he sees a man walking out of the private room area, tears in his eyes.

So much for playing the hero.

“He needed a good cry.” Seth says back at Dean’s apartment.

“With you naked?”

“That’s important!” He states, sitting cross legged at the foot of the bed opposite of Dean. “They think you’re vulnerable so they let their guard down. Then it’s just pulling the right strings and they’re nothing.”

Dean thinks of the night they met. How he started crying and Seth kissing him like he could take it all away. What was the difference between him and that man tonight?

“I know what you’re thinking.” Seth eyes him, glow of the tv illuminating the side of his face. “I like you. You have… There’s something about you.”

“You said, earlier- when you meet someone, you pick up what they want and use it.” He sounds like he’s walking on eggshells. Picking at a wound that’s only begun to heal.

“You think I’m doing that to you?”

Dean shrugs. This probably isn’t a conversation they should be having yet. He’s tired and this past week has been a blur. The twelve months before that was just vague existence. He’s a stranger in his own body.

Hours ago when he brought Dean to the club Seth laid it out for him. Make sure no one gets out of hand, deal with those who do.

“You look like you could throw a mean punch if you wanted.” Seth tells him, wicked little grin playing on his lips. “I’d like to see that.”

The cloud of smoke is constant. The club looks like it’s falling apart, everything is outdated. The once luxurious velvet upholstered chairs now frayed and stained in awful ways. The place isn’t dead, which he’s honestly surprised by. Enough traffic to keep his gaze floating around the area, catches Seth walking toward the private rooms wearing a tight pair of trunks, that same sway in his hips like the other night.

Most of the night Dean stands a ways from the door. Monitoring things and watching a cockroach skitter around the bar. No one notices.

“This place…”

“It’s perfect.” Seth smiles leaning against the wall beside him.

“I woulda pictured you at some place more swanky.”

“I’m not interested in dancing for bachelorette parties or whatever. There’s no fun in that. The guys who come here, they don’t wanna be seen. But they’re needy, they’re desperate.”

When Seth said he was hungry Dean didn’t realize he meant this.

The truth is he doesn’t know Seth. What kind of person he is. Which might be just as well, because lately Dean doesn’t know who he is, either.

“So I’m guessin’ the money doesn’t mean much to you.”

“Not really. See that guy?” Seth tilts his chin over to a man in a wrinkled suit. “He’s what I want. See his posture, all shrunk in on himself? All he wants is someone to look at him.”

“Got all that from how he stands?”

“Been doing this since I was sixteen, you learn things. Usually after a minute you know what they want and fall into that role.” Seth gives him a bright smile. This is his idea of fun. “It’s like getting to be a whole new person every night, maybe you should try it sometime.”

  
Dean wakes up alone, sun shining through his apartment window. The clock reads two in the afternoon, his phone buzzing angrily on the floor. Roman. Dean’s been ignoring his calls for two days and he isn’t sure why. Maybe he doesn’t want to explain himself. Doesn’t need Roman thinking he’s losing his mind.

He waits for it to die down before grabbing it and typing a quick text.

**I’m fine. Busy, but ok. Promise.**

It’s not convincing at all and he knows it.

_**Answer your phone.** _  
_**What's going on?** _

Dean stares at the phone until his eyes lose focus. Faintly aware of the thud it gives dropping onto the floor. Dreams of the bar he and Seth went to their first night out. Sitting at the counter, golden glow consuming him.

“What’s wrong with you?” Seth is on the bar counter, leaning back on his hands.

“I don’t know.”

Seth rolls his eyes. “Don’t lie.”

The next night at the club Seth quickly pulls him aside into the bathroom. For a second Dean thinks he’s about to get a blowjob but Seth’s arms are crossed, face impatient.

“I need you to do me a favor.” There’s an edge in his voice Dean’s never heard before.

“What?”

“I don’t want any of the other dancers knowing that we’re anything. They find out I got you a job they’ll fuck things up.”

“Wait, why?” He doesn’t understand why it would make any difference. Either case, he’s barely spoken to anyone other than Seth and the manager.

“Cause they’re fucking vultures. They’ll plant shit in customers heads. ‘Be careful, his boyfriend’s watching you’ or some shit like that.”

“...Boyfriend?” That shouldn’t make him as excited as it does. They’ve known each other for a week but it feels so… it feels good.

Seth pauses, drops his arms. “I don’t know what this is. But it doesn’t exist here, ok? Don’t even mention me. They’ll grab any scrap they can get.”

He wants to ask why it matters so much. Seth doesn’t do this for the money so why does he care?

“Just promise me you won’t say anything.” Seth’s nearly naked, just in his trunks, but he’s staring a hole into Dean waiting for him to answer.

Maybe it’s not just the customers who are desperate.

“I promise.”

“You promise?” Seth prods a finger to Dean’s chest.

“I promise.” He repeats.

Seth narrows his eyes at him in a silent challenge. He steps forward gently pressing his lips to Seth’s. The tension slipping away from the other’s shoulders tells Dean he’s satisfied.

“Good.” He walks toward the door, turning just before exiting. Bites his lower lip looking at Dean with a different kind of intensity. “Fuck your brains out later.”

  
Seth’s worries come in the form of a man with dirty blond hair and a stage name right out of the 80’s. Dolph Ziggler. The guy won’t stop eyeing Dean, smirk on his face.

“Haven’t seen you around.” Dolph says playing with a strand of his hair. “Working the door?”

“What’s it look like?” He responds a little rougher than necessary.

“Hey, leather jacket, I mean some people have kinks.”

“Don’t you have something better to do?”

Dolph smiles, eyes lighting up. “I’m on in a few, you should watch.”

He sighs in annoyance. Decides from his and Seth’s conversation earlier it’ll be best to keep a distance. That said, he does glance up a time or two when Dolph hits the stage. He’s not bad but it does make him wonder what Seth looks like up there.

  
“I haven’t done the main stage in a while. I like working the room.” Seth tells him rocking slowly on Dean’s lap.

It’s probably three or four in the morning, he’s not really sure. Everything’s out of focus and it’s not just from the bottle of whiskey they’re sharing.

“Stay tonight.” He says trying to match Seth’s rhythm.

“This cause I said the word-” He rolls his shoulders moaning. “Boyfriend?”

Again, Dean’s not sure.

“Just like you around.”

“Such a fucking flirt.” Seth laughs and picks up the pace.

  
Dean wakes up alone.

He isn’t surprised, a touch disappointed, but this is just how things are. Bleary eyed, he shuffles over to the bathroom. He thinks about calling Roman, what he should say.

“Good morning to you, too.” Seth says from the bathtub.

He jumps and pisses all over the toilet. Seth cackles, sinking into the water sending the overflow across the tile floor in a small wave.

Dean clears his throat. “Thought you left.”

“You asked me to stay.”

Simple as that.

Seth extends a hand out to him. “C’mere.”

Two steps forward and there’s knocking at his front door. Someone calling Dean’s name. Sami.

“Shit,... I should get that.” He says, choosing to ignore the pouty look Seth gives him on leaving the bathroom.

Somewhere along the way he pulls on a pair of boxers before answering, mild frustration dripping off his words. “What’re you doin’ here?”

“You weren’t answering your phone.” Sami says. “Plus, Roman asked me to check on you.”

He sighs. “Look, I’m kinda-”

“Get dressed. We’re going to get breakfast.”

“Sami, I got shit to do.”

Like joining Seth in the tub and kissing every inch of his skin.

“You can do it later. I’m worried about you, too. So put on something and let’s go.”

He’s ready to argue but Sami crosses his arms, jaw set in determination.

“Ok.” Dean mumbles. “Just- Wait out here a minute, alright?”

Seth’s still relaxing in the tub looking… absolutely gorgeous. The haze of steam creating a peaceful glow to the room. He can’t believe he has to leave.

“I, uh, I gotta go.”

Seth sits up quickly, water splashing everywhere. “What?”

“Got a friend waiting in the hall. He’s not gonna leave so-”

“Seriously?” He cuts in, pleasant smile replaced with disbelief. “You ask me to stay and now you’re bailing?”

“You can come with us.”

“I don’t give a fuck about them I wanna be with you!” Seth glares then just as quickly lets out a sigh, leaning back. “I’ll finish up and go.”

“Stay as long as you want.” He presses a quick kiss to Seth’s forehead. “I’ll try to be back soon.”

“I’m not waiting for you!” Seth shouts sinking back under the water, his knees bent rising up.

It’s so childish. It’s barely an argument but it hurts like one. He wants to tell Sami to fuck off. Where the fuck was this sudden burst of worry months ago? Dean’s finally got a taste of something and he has to turn away. Seth will be gone by the time he gets back, leaving Dean to sit around his apartment trying to keep himself occupied by chugging down whatever’s in the fridge.

Again, he shouldn’t be surprised.

One more nail in the coffin. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Mentions/Talk about suicide.

Dean is antsy. Seth is at his apartment right now but because his friends suddenly give a fuck about him Dean had to leave. Seth, naked in the bath, warm water and cold air leaving goosebumps on his skin. Holding out his hand for Dean and he had to reject it. Get dragged out for breakfast with Sami and talk about… what?

His drunk message to Roman?

He won’t call Roman next time, then. They have their own lives. And now Dean finally has the possibility of one for himself, this happens. Sure, he might be overreacting but this morning for the briefest moment Dean felt… happy.

Seth had stayed.

“Look, I have things to do.” Dean says sitting across from Sami.

He tried to order just a coffee but Sami had turned into a grandmother and pushed him to get food. He didn’t look too good, Sami had told him. Like that wasn’t the understatement of the year.

“Yea? What kind of things?” There’s an air of tentativeness in his voice that only adds to Dean’s frustration. 

He sighs. “Tell me what you came to tell me.”

“Dean…”

“I called Roman when I was drunk? I’ll repeat that, when I was drunk.”

“Ok, you were drunk.” Sami agrees. “Why were you drunk? Why were you upset in the first place?”

“You serious?” His face contorting into a scowl. “You wanna have this conversation now?”

“Yes. I’m worried about you.” Sami leans forward meeting Dean’s gaze. “You’ve been drifting the past few months and-”

“Wait.” Dean cuts in, Sami can’t possibly be suggesting what Dean thinks he is. “You’re blaming me for being depressed?”

“I’m not.”

“Sounds like you are.”

“I’m not.” Sami repeats firmly. “You didn’t let me finish. I saw that you were struggling, ok? That’s why I tried to bring you out on nights with everyone. I didn’t say anything to you because I thought being around others would help.”

“Stop.”

“Dean, listen-”

“Stop.” Dean slaps his hands down onto the table. “I don’t wanna hear this. And you know what? I’m actually doing a lot better lately, so don’t fuckin’ worry about it.” 

“Roman said something about that.” Sami says, concern still etched on his face. 

“What?” He hasn’t talked to Roman in days. How would he know anything?

“When we were juniors, you weren’t doing so great and suddenly you were better and then you kind of disappeared.” Sami says slowly, careful with each word like he’s going to set Dean off. And he’s right, he does.

“It was an accident! People get in car wrecks all the time but when it’s me it must’ve been on purpose, right?”

“You were gone all winter break, you didn’t talk to anyone.”

“I was in the hospital with broken fuckin’ bones! I didn’t need anyone looking at me like you are. Sad eyes like I’m… Roman had no business telling you.”

“He’s worried.” Sami says. “He was talking about coming to visit. Spring break, or sooner if he can.” 

His stomach twists into a knot and he wants to puke. Poor Dean, so fragile, needs to be looked after. An urge hits him to break the plates in front of them, smash the table, destroy everything in sight. There’s so much anger flowing through his veins Dean’s surprised he isn’t shaking. Isn’t grabbing Sami by the collar and shouting in his face.

It’s a giant leap from his normal apathetic self. He’s exhausted by the constant uncertainty. The road to nowhere he decided to camp out on. 

It’s too late for this bullshit sympathy. How dare Roman tell Sami about the accident when he had no right to. And that’s what it was, an accident. It was embarrassing and then Roman started acting like Dean had actively done it. The cautious looks and the ‘are you okay’s as though Dean was losing it.

Just like now.

“He can do whatever he wants.” Dean tells Sami, throws down some money on the table. “I’m going home.”

The walk home doesn’t do much to calm him. Ends up slamming the door upon entering, the urge to break something still floating in his mind. Until he sees a large lump stirring in the bed. All the frustration slips away the second Seth sits up stretching out with a yawn. 

“Thought you left.”

Seth shrugs. “Your bed’s comfy.”

Dean pulls his jacket off, then his shoes, slips into bed next to a very naked Seth who laughs while being pulled into a hug. Dean’s never been the one to hide his face in someone’s neck or chest. Be the little spoon. It’s never been an option but right now he doesn’t care.

Seth threads his fingers through Dean’s hair, usual amused tone softened. “What happened?”

He breathes in Seth’s scent, the lightness of Dean’s soap he used mingling with their shared blankets. They blend so perfectly.

“This how you are with customers?”

Dean doesn’t know why he asks that. Feels like a total asshole but Seth takes it in stride. Plants a kiss in his hair.

“Not usually in a bed. Or care.”

“So it’s just a big game for you?”

“Why are you avoiding the question?”

“Why are you?” He’s being childish, but there in the dark enveloped in Seth’s warmth it’s ok.

The reassurances Dean gave himself that night at the club reemerge. He doesn’t have to be anyone around Seth. Doesn’t need to force on a straight face. Dean slowly moves up the bed just enough to kiss him. There’s no mad hunger to it, no fierceness unlike the other times they’ve been in bed together. It’s soft, tender, because Dean doesn’t know what to say. 

He shouldn’t be angry that his friends care. The problem is it’s all too little too late. He’s not the same person he was a year ago.

“They just- It’s like watching a house fire and doing fuckall till it’s covered in flames.” Dean whispers.

Seth’s lips graze against his as he speaks. “So let it burn to the ground.”

“...You talkin’ about killing myself?”

“Not exactly. Sometimes self destruction’s the only thing that can clear the way. See the world for what it is. Know what you actually want.”

It sounds a bit like those middle of the night infomercials on self improvement except distorted. Stand in front of a bus and feel the negativity disappear on impact. 

“Well, I can tell you I don’t wanna kill myself.”

Seth pulls back narrowing his eyes at Dean. No malice but a questioning smirk playing across his lips. “I found a razor in your bathroom. Not the shaving kind.”

Ok. So, Dean’s thought about it. But that’s a hell of a lot different than actually doing it. It’s an odd sort of safety blanket. Comfort in knowing that it’s there.

Break glass in case of emergency. 

“I’ve never used it.” He says defensively.

“I’m not judging you.” Gives Dean a quick kiss at the corner of his mouth. “I tried to kill myself. Twice. Same day.” 

“You did?” He asks and Seth nods. “What- Is it ok if, uh…”

He just smiles. “First, I tried to hang myself but the belt snapped. I was so mad I took a bunch of sleeping pills. Laid down on the floor of my room and kinda checked out.” He rolls his eyes, amused by his own suicide. “Woke up in the middle of the night. It’s pitch black and I think I’m dead. And I’m so happy. No make believe afterlife playground. It’s perfect. ...And then I hear a car drive by.” 

Seth lets out a quiet laugh but Dean wants to know more. “What did you do after?”

“Nothing at first. Rode the high until I started working at the club.”

“Doesn’t sound like you got anything out of it.” Dean says, strange sense of hope deflating. 

“Says you. I stopped holding myself back. Stopped letting others dictate who I was supposed to be. We’re all gonna fucking die, Dean. There’s no sense in standing on the sidelines. I wanna have fun. And I know you do, too. I can see it.”

“You don’t know me.” It’s an automatic response. A quick side step.

“I think I do. I think you’re tired and you wanna let go.”

He is, but he can’t.

Seth cups his cheek. Kisses him, grin pulling at his lips as he does. “When you’re ready.”

Dean thinks of the past year of emptiness. The whirlwind of the last week. His conversation with Sami. And, what Roman must think of him. There’s just so much. This isn’t how he wants to be.

Dean leans into the touch, staring into Seth’s eyes. “Help me get there.”


	7. Chapter 7

They don’t leave the bed for two days straight. Fucking until Dean feels lightheaded, the both of them collapsing side by side, drenched in sweat among other fluids. It had been too much, Dean’s friends thinking he was drifting over the edge while Seth had told him to jump. He settled for the latter, a hazy marathon of sucking and fucking, Seth didn’t seem to mind.

Seth did leave notes. Blips of thoughts in between the sheets.

_"You’re sad and scared, do you wanna stay like that?”_

He doesn’t. Dean’s spent too much time stepping back from his own life, he’s become a damn ghost. Unsure of himself and the choices he makes, Dean hates every second of it. Seth promises escape with his words and his touch, suddenly Dean's the center of attention. It’s not something he’s used to. Dean wants to give in so badly. Escape. But he’s still hesitating.

Why? 

_"Is it what they think? Is that what matters?”_

Dean’s friends have been the last hope in keeping him grounded. Somewhat grounded. Barely. They started their twenties at a winning speed while Dean tripped over his own feet. He didn’t fit in anymore, and maybe he never will again. Especially now that he’s seen as some unstable hopeless case. But there he is trying to put on a brave face so they don’t have to worry.

Why?

“I… I feel like shit.” Dean sounds as though he’d been crying for hours, sore throat and cracking voice.

Had he been crying? Dean doesn't remember.

Then again, the floor is littered in empty bottles. Foggy memories are to be expected.

Seth turns on his side, kissing at his jaw. “Let you facefuck me next round, if you want.”

The laughter burns as it spills from his throat. This is Seth being nice. Taking care of him. “Might be the sweetest thing you’ve said to me.”

“Got a real way with words sometimes.” He states, clearly pleased with himself, and Dean’s body tenses.

How much of this is Seth falling into a role like he does with customers? Pretending to be who he thinks Dean needs him to be. He wants to peel it away. Find out who Seth really is. 

That last little note. A whisper seared into his skull.

_"Let go.”_

“What if… What if I wanna stay in bed all week?” Dean asks, cautiously hopeful. “Would you stay?”

“I might. If that’s what’ll get you where you need to be.”

“Where do I need to be?”

“It’s cliche.” Seth yawns, turning onto his back. “...bottom. The kind where the pieces don’t fit so you just throw the thing out. You’re real close.”

“Why’s it even important to you?" He asks. "Am I some pet project or something?”

“Maybe.” He answers and Dean glances over receiving an easy grin in response. “I’m not gonna sugar coat it so you feel better. I said it before, there’s something about you. That maybe we…”

It’s the first time he’s seen Seth lost for words. It's interesting. Satisfying. "Maybe what?”

“You know what it feels like. The crushing weight of it all. I wanna help you.” Seth pauses, gently takes his hand pressing his lips to Dean’s inner wrist. “Save you.”

And there’s a dozen things he could say. Yell at Seth like he did with Sami at the notion he needs looking after. Needs to be rescued. But he isn’t seeing Dean the way they see him. Seth’s version of salvation isn’t theirs and when he says it, it feels different.

It feels right.

 

Dean wakes up on the bathroom floor. It’s freezing, he’s curled in on himself completely nude. Immediately wants to puke, starts dry heaving into the toilet but nothing happens.

He’s empty.

And, alone.

“Seth?” He croaks out but no response comes. 

How did he end up here? Things had been a blur at times but he doesn’t have the vaguest idea of Seth leaving him like this. Dean rests his head on the seat, glancing at the tub letting out a groan when something catches his eye. Reaches over and picks the small item up, refocusing his vision. A razor blade.

 

He doesn’t see Seth anywhere at the strip club that night. Thinks of asking but doesn’t want to risk it. What had happened between them? Did Seth regret what he had said? Maybe this was part of the plan. Another dose of abandonment to shove Dean over the edge.

“You look like you got hit by a truck.” Dolph smiles at him, his teeth glaringly bright.

Dean’s got a hell of a hangover and limited patience as is. “What do you want?”

“Just saying hi. Always so mean!” He laughs, playing up a wounded expression. “What’d I even do?”

Dean sighs, shaking his head. “Nothin’. Sorry, I… yea.”

The blond watches him a moment. Almost like he wasn’t expecting an apology and is now reconsidering him. 

“Come with me a sec.” Dolph gestures over to the bathroom.

Dean hesitates a moment then follows. What would Seth say or think about him and Dolph in the bathroom together? It’s high school jealousy tactics. Seth probably wouldn’t even care, he could get on his knees and blow Dolph and Seth wouldn’t bat a lash.

“You with me?” Dolph eyes him curiously. “Seem really out of it.”

“I’m… tired.” He manages to say. “Why’d you bring me in here?”

Dolph grabs a paper towel by the sink, dampening it. “Tilt your head to the left.”

“Why?”

“Your neck’s bleeding.”

He turns to the mirror examining the wound. It’s similar to a paper cut only worse, deeper yet still just as precise.

“Razor blade.” Dean mumbles, watching the fresh blood seeping from the dried residue.

“What?” He asks but Dean doesn’t answer. “Let me clean it up.”

There are so many questions bubbling up in his mind while Dolph lightly presses the paper towel to his neck. But one in particular repeats itself. What would Seth think at seeing them like this? Seth, who left him on the bathroom floor. Called him desperate. Told Dean that he wanted to save him. To whatever extent that meant.

And Dean wanted him to.

Still does.

“Just got in, didn’t you?” Dean’s fingers toy with the button of Dolph’s jeans.

He hums a yes, lifting the wet towel. “You’re going to need gauze or something.”

“Those pink trunks you wore the other night, those are nice. ...So you know.” He unbuttons Dolph’s pants, a hand stopping him before he can go further.

“What’re you doing?”

“I have a headache.”

He laughs, though his grip is loosening. “Don’t think this is going to fix it.”

“Won’t hurt to try.” Dean shrugs, he’s choked on worse distractions. 

Dolph looks into his eyes, totally confused but there’s humor in his voice. “How fucked up are you?”

In that moment he thinks of Seth, again. Bathed in red light. That dangerous smile. Promises he hopes will remain true.

“I wanna have fun.”

 

Dean’s on his way home when he finally sees him again. Seth sitting on the curb outside his building watching cars drive by. He’d been waiting for Dean. Smiles and jumps to his feet to his feet the moment he sees Dean.

“C’mon, I wanna take you somewhere.”

He doesn’t have a chance to ask about earlier, Seth’s already heading down the street. Walks across a busy street like he’s daring the oncoming traffic to hit him. Dean runs to keep up while cars honk at him, Seth just laughs and continues on. They cut through a few alleyways until he stops, standing opposite from a shady looking hotel Dean swears he knows from the news. If the strip club had a dozen murders under its belt this place has at least double.

No one stops them getting on the elevator inside. It feels strange to move so freely. Back to being a ghost.

“Don’t lose focus.” Seth tells him. 

“Where we goin’?”

“It’s a surprise.” He grins and kisses him. Licks his lips when they break apart, eyes narrowing a fraction. “...You taste like cum.”

The elevator dings and Seth exits leading them down an endless hallway. Muffled moans and shouts remind Dean of the night they met. Seems so long ago. Like another life. Maybe it will be.

“Here.” Seth points at an unmarked door.

Dean pushes it open and is met with the cold night wind. The city lights shine beautifully, Dean’s never seen a better view. Seth bringing him up here is oddly romantic on the face of it. The kind of thing where they hold hands, wistfully gaze at the city, and talk about how small they feel in comparison. Doesn’t really work with them when they both already know how insignificant they are.

Cemented even further as Seth steps onto the ledge, turning his back to the city and beaming right at him. “You ready?”


	8. Chapter 8

“Are you serious?” Dean stands rooted at the spot watching Seth swaying side to side on the ledge.

“You scared?” Seth teases, getting on his tip toes.

“I’m not gonna jump off a fuckin’ building!”

He gives an exasperated sigh. “Not telling you to jump, idiot. I want you to feel what it’s like up here.”

Dean takes a small step forward. Stops.

“I can’t.”

“Yes you can. C’mere.” Seth holds out his hand. “If I pull you can push. Promise.”

Its enough to make Dean smile and move those last steps forward. He doesn’t take Seth’s hand but accepts the touch as he cups Dean’s face.

“I’ve never met anyone like you. It’s… I dunno, I-” Dean tries to speak, put his thoughts into words when Seth’s hand covers his mouth.

“Don’t say that word, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m not against it but I don’t wanna hear it right now.”

Dean tilts his head to the side, lips twitching into a smirk. “You scared?”

“I’m trying to show you something and you’re throwing me some bullshit distraction of love! We’ve known each other for two weeks, you know that, right?”

“Yea, and you’re asking me to get on the ledge of fuckin’ building.” He argues making Seth chuckle despite himself. Their whole relationship, whatever it is, doesn’t really make any sense or fit into any simple boundaries. “It feels a lot longer. In a good way. Feels like… I’ve been waiting for you.”

Seth’s hand drops. Dean’s unsure if his expression is pitying or awestruck.

“Who’d you blow earlier?” There’s no malice in his tone, more genuine curiosity. It sends a jolt through Dean, either way.

His jaw tenses, speaks through gritted teeth. “Dolph.”

“Fuck! Just shove me now! Ziggler?! Didn’t realize sticking it in me for two days straight wasn’t enough for you.”

“I didn’t-” He pauses, and god does he wish he drowned himself in booze before running into Seth. “That’s not why I did it.”

“Then why?”

This is the most ridiculous place to be having this argument.

“Will you come off the ledge first?” He asks but Seth shakes his head.

“Nah, thinking about doing a backflip.” Seth says plainly. “Why’d you do it?”

“...I dunno. I guess- I was mad at you. You left.”

“I came back!” He defends, all but stomping his feet.

“You still left.” Dean hates saying it. It’s true and incredibly pathetic.

And there’s that look from Seth again, a quiet sigh escaping him. He hops down, sitting in the ledge, keeping his gaze with Dean’s before letting it travel down. Hooks a finger in a belt loop of Dean’s jeans bringing him closer.

“Seth, wait-”

“Shh. Consider it an apology.” He says unfastening Dean’s pants. “And a how to for your next time with Dolph.”

It stings, Seth turning it all back on him. Like a cheap shot while taking Dean into his mouth. It doesn’t make sense and he should move away but he can’t. Doesn’t want to. Seth leans back teetering just slightly over the edge, Dean rocking forward uneasily. He moans out a laugh. This is perfect and fucked. A hard orgasm away from falling to their deaths.

It’s exhilarating.

Fun.

Seth spits off the side shouting a ‘hey down there’ giggling at his own lewdness. Dean joins in grinning from ear to ear, slumping down on shaky legs, barely managing to tuck himself back in. And all he can do is stare, the frustration from earlier dissipating. He’s never felt like this before. So instantly connected to someone. For the first time in a long time Dean feels like he could have something.

So why hold onto the scraps of nostalgic happiness that was his high school life? It’s over.

Let it burn to the ground.

“I think I’m ready.”

Seth smiles and it’s beautiful. Then Dean’s phone buzzes in his pocket. A text from Roman.

_**Please call me. I just want to know you’re ok.** _

He reads the message three times over. Does he respond or ignore it? Dean wants to throw away the past but Roman is still his best friend. He genuinely cares about Dean. But… things are different now.

“Toss it.” Seth says

“What?”

“You said you’re ready. Chuck it off the fucking roof.” Seth instructs, crossing his arms. “You don’t need them.”

“I know, but… Roman’s-” He glances at the message again. “He’s ok.”

“You’re losing your nerve.” He sighs, disappointment etched in his words.

“I’m not.”

“You are! You’re so fucking close and you chicken out!” He lets out growl of annoyance and heads for the door.

“Wait!” Dean scrambles to stand but Seth is already far passed him.

“Grow a goddamn spine or pay me for a dance. Cause right now you’re boring me.” The contempt in Seth’s voice is like a knife through his chest. “Bye, Dean.”

And just like that, Seth leaves.

Dean grips the phone tight in his hand unable to catch his breath, the city lights blurring as his vision grows wet. Why does it hurt so badly? His heart wasn't ripped out, it was left in place to be forgotten. Not worth consideration. He peers over the edge to see Seth walking up the street. He doesn’t turn to look back.

This should be the moment Dean throws himself off the roof. Fuck that taste of death Seth was promising. Let the darkness consume him whole. But he’s weak and he can’t. Slumps back down to the ground, gravel crunching underneath him. Listens to the phone ring twice before Roman picks up.

“Dean?”

“I… He left.” He shouldn’t have called but his brain is running on autopilot. Just needs to speak, hear someone’s voice.

“Who?”

“Seth.” He gulps down a ragged breath. “He- I… I fucked it up.”

“It’s going to be ok.” Roman reassure him in a tone that feels so familiar. “Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.”

“You’ll just get mad.” Dean can’t tell Roman about this or anything about him and Seth without it sounding worrisome. And it might be but it’s exactly what Dean needs… and he threw that away. “I’m gonna go home now. Talk to you later, ok?”

Roman’s mid sentence when he hangs up. There’s some tiny part of Dean that hopes it hurts Roman. Because he has a great life or that Dean needs to feel venomous, he’s not sure.

Out front of the hotel on the sidewalk there’s an off colored stain. Seth’s spit and his cum. He laughs, hollow ache in his chest. This is them carving their initials into a tree.

It’s perfect. 


	9. Chapter 9

The next week is hard. Painful. Being alone again feels like a shock to his system. All the energy torn right from his veins leaving Dean empty. Curls up in bed vaguely focusing on the TV, phone next to his pillow waiting. Hoping.

Seth doesn’t call, but Roman does. Dean refuses to give any details about anything. Instead, he asks Roman to tell him about his college life. He needs the distraction even if it’s just the sound of his voice as Dean zones out.

“You sound hurt.” Roman says.

“Just tired.”

“I can talk to Sami, tell him to stop by.” Roman offers and Dean winces at the idea. “You shouldn’t be alone.”

“I’m not a-” He takes a quick breath in an attempt to calm himself. Back to being poor hopeless Dean. “I don’t want anyone around right now.”

Except Seth. 

So what does that make him? 

“Dean…”

“I’m gonna hang up.” He warns, fighting the shake in his voice. 

“Have you talked to him?” Roman gives one last push.

“...No.” He had tried calling once but it just rang and rang. Anxiety building with every passing second. “I- I don’t wanna talk about it, alright?”

Going back to work at the club is even worse. Seth pointedly ignores him as if Dean’s invisible. Walking past without even a second glance. He’s never cared that Seth is a stripper and yet every time Dean sees him follow behind a customer to the private rooms it feels like another jab. The end of the night can’t come soon enough.

“I don’t want to sound like an ass but, you look- Are you ok?” Dolph asks with a note of worry walking up to him.

“I really hate that question.” He mumbles, chewing at the inside of his cheek.

“Sorry.” Dolph holds up his hands, flashes that bright smile of his. “You seemed out of it again.”

“Trying to get me into the bathroom again?”

“Hey, you’re the one who initiated.” 

“Yea...” Dean says quietly. He wanted to hurt Seth. And he did, then it flipped around and hurt him right back. But with how Seth is acting it’s not the worst idea. 

Or it is, and Dean’s just desperate to feel something different. 

“I’ll admit, I do keep thinking about it. You were good.” Dolph tells him moving a step closer, smile turning flirtatious. “I was wondering if you were interested in something a little more.”

“Like what?”

“If you’d like to come to my place tonight.” 

In his peripheral Dean can see Seth walking from the back dressing room towards the front door, right where they’re standing. Dean knows he’s watching.

He looks straight at Dolph, throws on a grin. “Your place? Sure. Let me finish up here and I’ll catch up in a sec.”

The second he moves past him Dean glances over at Seth. There’s the tiniest hint of surprise on his face, gone in a blink of an eye. It feels good. If Seth can stab him in the chest over and over so can he. 

Finally Seth acknowledges him, pauses mid step to whisper in Dean’s ear. “Hope you enjoy yourself.”

Dolph’s apartment is the kind of place Dean imagined himself having in high school. It’s nice, clean, has an actual view unlike Dean’s. He remembers Seth admiring his place, though in his own special way. Called it a crime scene waiting to happen. An act of passion. Murder suicide. 

Then he bent Seth over the kitchen counter and fucked him so hard Seth came all over the lower cupboards.

“I need a drink.” He tells Dolph, shoving down the memory as far as he can.

Three drinks later Dean’s on all fours on Dolph’s bed trying to lose himself. It’s been a long time since he’s bottomed and it actually sort of hurts. He’s never been one to relish pain but the sting of every thrust offers an odd form of comfort. He groans out a _‘harder’_ and _‘faster’_ and even a _‘please’._ Anything to take him away.

Dean doesn’t want to be here or anywhere else, honestly. What he wants is to fall right into the void Seth had promised. 

Which only makes it worse when Dolph tries to be nice afterward. Kissing along Dean’s collar and up his neck, giving him compliments Dean’s only half listening to. Dolph asks if he’d like to stay the night, Dean throws him an excuse of an early morning and maybe next time.

A future nonexistent next time.

With some luck he’ll get hit by a bus on the way home.

It’s a nice thought.

Dean’s busy counting his steps when his heart stops. It’s Seth, sitting on the curb again. If Dean didn’t know better Seth looks like he just got done dancing. Sporadic sheen of glitter on his face and and hair, glistening as he sways humming some song Dean can’t quite hear. Part of him wants to turn and walk away. Let Seth sit there for hours, see how he likes being abandoned. But this time Seth knew he had been with Dolph and still came here, that had to mean something. 

“Waitin’ for me?” Dean asks, tries to act casual all while carefully sitting down beside him.

“Went to a party. Got bored, came here.”

“Thought I was boring, too.” He points out, fading buzz allowing him a cocky smile. “Or did you miss me?”

“You’re pretty confident for someone who can’t sit down right.” Seth teases. “How hard did he fuck you?”

He should probably get angry, tell Seth to leave him alone. Tell him that he’s a complete fucking asshole. But Dean snorts, breaks down into laughter.

“Pretty hard.” And they’re both grinning. “But he’s nice. Nicer than you.”

“Never claimed to be nice, Dean.”

Maybe that’s what draws him to Seth.

Maybe that’s why…

“I think I love you.”

Suddenly he’s falling to his side being shoved roughly. 

“Don’t say that!” Seth shouts, crossing his arms tightly around himself.

“Why not?”

“Cause you’re all fucked up, Dean! You don’t know...” He exhales, glitter falling away as he runs a hand through his hair. “You’re lost.”

“So help me find my way.”

A soft smile tugs at his lips. “Don’t be a cliche fuck.”

The funny thing is something so big as an admission of love seems secondary compared to Dean’s next words.

“I’m ready. I mean it this time. Please show me.”

Dean’s sitting on the floor, back against the bed listening to the water rush filling the bathtub. Seth’s in the bathroom humming sweetly, a lullaby maybe. He’s holding his phone staring at the lock screen until it goes black. Rubs at his eyes, unsure when he had started crying. He’s not scared but he’d like to say something to Roman. Tell him that he’ll be better now and he doesn’t have to worry.

Seth calls for him and the phone drops with a thud. Now or never. Seth’s sitting on the side of the tub gliding his fingers over the water. For a moment they simply gaze at each other. He thinks of saying how beautiful Seth looks then he smiles like he’s already read Dean’s mind.

“I don’t know if I believe in love exactly. I can love and hate _things._ But a person, that’s different. I tell customers I love them every night cause that’s what they need. You…” 

“Are you scared?”

“Of falling for you? ...What we have is better than love and I know it hurts sometimes but it’s to make you understand. Trust me. You’ve gotta lose it all to be free.”

Dean gets into the tub fully clothed, knees drawn up to give him enough space to lie back completely. Seth kisses his forehead just before Dean slips under the water.

At first it’s like a warm embrace, reassuring and peaceful. When that pleasant warmth turn to heat in the back of his throat Dean exhales but keeps himself in place. He can just make out Seth smiling at him from above and it feels wonderful all while his chest begins to burn. Dean’s body fights him, desperate for air but he can’t give in. 

What will it be like for him? The taste of death. The loss of his old life. The fear and uncertainty that plagued him would be gone soon. He sputters, gulping in a mouthful of water. His vision begins to fade, veins screaming in panic. Every other blink Seth is there, then he’s not. Is he going to abandon Dean again? Is his brain shutting down?

Why does he keep fighting for a life he doesn’t want?

It’s time.

Let go.


	10. Chapter 10

It’s cold. A constant dull buzz filling Dean’s ears. He takes a shallow breath, throat burning. It’s a tremendous effort to open his eyes, closes them almost immediately.

“Welcome back, Dean.” A woman's voice says.

“...Wha?” He blinks, finally glancing around at his surroundings.

A hospital room. Only instead of stark white walls it’s a calming blue grey. The entire front wall is glass showing a busy nurses station across from him. How did he end up here? Did he stay under too long? Had Seth called in panic?

“How…” He swallows roughly. “How’d I get here?”

“Your friend, I believe his name was Roman, called. Does that ring any bells?”

Dean tries to think. He remembers holding his phone and wanting to say something to Roman but he hadn’t, had he?

“I didn’t…”

“It’s alright.” She smiles. “You may feel a little disoriented, just rest.”

Slowly it dawns on Dean where he is and tries his best not to panic in front of the nurse.

“...When can I leave?”

She pats his arm, overly pleasant tone putting him on edge. “Rest.”

Dean spends an hour racking his brain trying to recall talking to Roman but getting nowhere. And where had Seth been in all this? Did he run off again?

How had it come to this?

 

Clipboards.

Like deja vue. Something he left behind and ran as fast as he could away from. What was it? Missing pieces he can’t find. Some guy with a put on smile holds a clipboard and starts asking Dean questions. Evaluating him. Dean thinks of Seth, about reading people and falling into the roles they need. This guy looks like he doesn’t want another headache, so Dean feeds him basic answers.

He was tired.  
He’d been drinking.  
Things simply got out of hand.

The next day he’s moved from the observation room a to regular room. He’s told he may be there a few days while they decide his outpatient program which Dean inwardly rolls his eyes at, but whatever gets him out of here he’ll agree to. If he wanted to get help he would’ve tried months ago. But what would it have done? Dean already knew what was wrong with him. He had no meaning, direction, or motivation. He simply existed, there was nothing to say.

Then Seth showed up and everything changed.

“There you are.”

A few tired blinks and a yawn later he sees Seth at the foot of the bed, smiling at him. He walks along the side leaning down, kissing his forehead.

“I’m so proud of you, Dean.” Seth whispers.

He doesn’t know exactly why he starts crying. If he’s happy or overwhelmed. If he’s angry at Seth for letting him end up here or if he’s so fucking in love he’d drown himself all over again.

“What’d you see?”

Dean sniffles, slowly regaining control of himself. “Nothing. I faded out and it- it felt nice. I wasn’t scared…”

“Nothing mattered anymore.” Seth finishes for him.

He nods and wipes away the remaining tears. “I just… I thought I’d feel better than this.”

“You will.” Seth promises gently caressing his face. “You saw that there’s nothing to be afraid of. Who gives a fuck what anyone thinks cause in the end there’s nothing. You know that now, you’re better than them.”

It’s a nice thought. Dean wants to believe it, but then he remembers how he ended up in this room.

“I talked to Roman, before. I said something to him… I don’t remember what. That’s how I got here but- Where were you?”

Seth takes a moment to answer moving back down the bed. “I hid. I listened while they revived you. Coughing and gasping… Why did you call Roman?”

“Why do you always run when I need you?” Dean counters. “You tell me you're proud but you run every damn time. ...it hurts.”

Seth eyes him, taking his own evaluation of Dean’s sad state. “I care about you, Dean. Everything I do is to make you stronger. That guy I met at New Year’s was sad and hopeless. You were begging me to save you from the second we saw each other.”

“I don’t feel much different than that night.”

“Cause you called Roman!” He growls throwing his hands up. “You’re so desperate like he’s your white knight when all he’s done is tell you you're weak. You want someone to hold your hand then go to your fucking friend. But if you want to stand on your own two feet, here I am.”

 

The next thing Dean knows is he’s waking up to the room phone ringing beside his head. When had he fallen asleep? He was given medication but hadn’t felt them take effect and now Seth was gone again. But as the phone rings a vague memory, dreamlike, repeats.

Seth’s voice, soft and sweet. “I’ll be waiting.”

Another ring and Dean picks up the phone, tiredly mumbles out a hello.

“Hey, it’s Roman. How’re-” He pauses, rethinking his choice of words. “Hey.”

“Hey. Um…” His mind’s a mess. His and Seth’s argument. Unknowingly reaching out to Roman. “So… I guess I called you.”

“You don’t remember?”

He shakes his head, sighs at himself. “No. What did I say?”

“You were saying goodbye but I shouldn’t worry.” Roman begins, there’s hidden pain in his voice. Guilt. “Said Seth was with you, that he was going to show you something but you were crying and… It scared me.”

“Oh.”

Dean doesn’t know what to say. He has no memory of it but how else did he get here?

“Sami tried to stop by but they said you weren’t allowed visitors.”

Dean tenses, clutching the phone tightly in his hands. “You told Sami?”

How could Roman do that to him again? Didn't he know how much it hurt the first time?

“Someone should be with you till I get there.” Roman says and Dean’s stomach drops.

“Wait, what?”

“I’m coming to visit.” Roman tells him, quiet but firm. “Getting some things sorted, should be a few days.”

“Y-you don’t have to.” Dean stammers, trying to think of some convincing reason for him to stay away. “I… Roman, please, don’t.”

“Is it because of Seth?”

“Things are gonna be ok. I’ll be fine.”

“You tried to kill yourself, Dean.” Roman’s pain and anger pouring through the phone. “What the hell was Seth doing? Watching?”

“I don’t need your help!” He shouts. Even if Dean tried to explain it Roman wouldn’t understand. “You can’t fix this. There’s nothing for me. Not a damn thing.”

Dean wants to laugh, maybe this was it, what Seth meant. To know that there’s nothing and to accept it. Become free.

“That’s not true, Dean.” Roman reassures him but it feels empty. “I don’t know what’s going on but, this isn’t like you.”

He stares up at the ceiling, thinks of Seth waiting for Dean at his apartment. “Things change.”


	11. Chapter 11

Dean gets out a day later with two bottles of pills he has no interest in taking and a folder filled with papers detailing his outpatient program. He smiles and thanks them, then chucks it all into the trash on the way home. Every time a nurse or doctor had come into his room Dean played along. Fell into the role that was needed to get out and also appease them. The micro gestures, the heartfelt looks, it was like playing a game.

And Seth was right, it was fun.

When Dean gets back to his apartment Seth’s there curled up in bed. Seth slowly rises up, blanket wrapped around him, naked and beautiful. Dean’s still conflicted, wants Seth more than anything but that feeling of emptiness remains. Does Seth feel like this? Maybe he left that part out and he’s just as hollow as Dean is.

“Roman’s coming by in a couple days.” Dean says expecting an angry reaction but Seth only stares ahead, taking it in and waiting, so Dean continues. “I yelled at him, said he couldn’t help me but… I don’t know if I can ever get to the level you’re at.”

Seth pulls the blanket closer to himself. It’s the first time he’s ever seen him look close to vulnerable. It’s an odd feeling. 

“Are you trying to get rid of me?”

“No. You’re-” Dean shakes his head, smile tugging at his lips. “I meant it when I said I love you. I saw it, the darkness you were talking about. It hurts a little, still being empty but if there’s nothing waiting for me then… fuck it. Let’s have fun.”

Seth flashes an excited smile, grabs him by the shirt pulling Dean on top of him.

“Fuck me.”

Hours later the sun is rising again and they’re a mess, side by side slowly catching their breath. If Dean could have this everyday until oblivion he might actually have a chance at happiness. The problem is Roman’s coming and try as he might to shove that worry away it’s beginning to take hold.

“He’s going to tell you to stop seeing me.” Seth says quietly, his concerns matching Dean’s. 

“I know, doesn’t mean I’ll listen.” 

“You might.” Seth comments, ever unsure of Dean’s willpower. “He could ruin everything.”

“What d’you mean?” 

Is Seth that frightened of Roman? All that talk but when it comes down to it Dean wouldn’t be surprised at all if he ran off again. And if he didn’t come back… Dean doesn’t know what he’d do.

“You know what we should do?” Seth sits up turning to face Dean, a mischievous grin forming. “We should run off somewhere away from all these… What about Vegas?”

“You wanna run away to Vegas?” Dean questions, but can’t help smile back.

“Why not? Bet we could find a real sleazy club to work for. Could you imagine the customers there? God, it would be so fun.”

He can picture it, some sad little place so far off strip that only the most hopeless and hungry people go there. Of course Seth would think of it like a playground. People to toy with, promise the world to, string along until they drown themselves in the bathtub.

“Dean?” Seth eyes him. “You with me?”

“What happens when you actually get bored of me?” He asks quietly, as though Seth might get up and leave at the question.

“I won’t.”

“You called me boring before. You ran off.”

“I was angry with you. You have so much potential and you’re just hanging onto people that don’t understand. They want you to be their version of you. You’re fucking broken, Dean. I know that. I want you to embrace that.”

Dean wants to ask Seth how he does it. How can he be so fearless. Is it an act or is it real? From the moment they met Seth has been an unstoppable force of carelessness. Dean remembers that feeling and is jealous. What does he have to do to reach that point? What is he missing? The questions are on the tip of his tongue when there’s a loud knock on the door. 

“Dean? Dean, it’s me.” Roman’s voice through the door sending a jolt of electricity up Dean’s spine. 

Panic hits and even Seth seems worried. Dean thought he had time but Roman lied to him. What kind of friend does that?

“I’ll get rid of him. Just- Hide in the bathroom or something. I can’t- I don’t wanna deal with this yet.”

He expects Seth to call him a coward. Kisses Dean on the cheek instead. “You don’t need him, remember that.”

Dean quickly tugs on a pair boxers and stands at the door, taking a deep breath. It’s different hearing his voice in person rather than through the phone. When he opens the door and sees Roman for the first time in over a year it’s a whole new tidal wave of anxiety. Roman looks good. Put together. Dean can only imagine what he must look like.

“You lied.” Dean says. It’s childish but it’s the only thing he can think of.

“About what?”

“You said you’d be here in a couple days.”

And now Dean sees that face he never wanted to see. Worry and confusion. “Dean, that was three days ago.”

“What?” He narrows his eyes at Roman. What was he trying to do? “I just got home a few hours ago. Me and Seth-”

“Is he here?” Roman interrupts, looking over Dean’s shoulder. 

“No.” He says too quickly. “He left.”

Roman seems to accept his answer, still scanning his apartment. “Can I come in?”

He thinks of saying no then steps to the side. Roman drops a duffel bag to the floor and Dean wonders how the hell he’s going to get Seth out of the bathroom if Roman’s planning to stay. Though judging from the way he’s looking around at the place maybe he’ll leave on his own.

“Haven’t cleaned in a while.” He says as Roman wades through the discarded cans and bottles. 

“It’s ok. I’ll help.” Roman offers him a smile that makes him tense.

If Dean starts crying he’s fucked but the words come before he can stop them. “Did you really come here because of me?”

“It’s not because of. You’re my best friend, Dean. I want you to be ok and I know you’re not.”

Dean looks away, doesn’t know how to respond. He grabs some clothes beside the bed and heads for the bathroom.

“Lemme get changed and we can go out. It’ll be better, alright?”

And there’s Seth, lying in the bathtub like the first night they met. Dean runs on autopilot, sitting in the same position as he did, right beside the tub.

“I can’t…” He mumbles, resting his head on the ledge as Seth runs a hand through his hair.

“Get rid of him. He shouldn’t be here.”

“He thinks I’ve lost it. And, fuck, you called me broken.” He raises his head, staring Seth in the eyes. “So what am I?” 

The door creaks as it opens. “Dean? Who are you talking to?” 

Dean doesn’t want to look at him, maybe if he ignores him it’ll all go away. But there’s no way around this.

“This is Seth.” He watches as Seth’s face drops into clear mournful disappointment. 

Roman glances from Dean to the tub, brows furrowed. “Seth?”

“I told him to hide. I didn’t… I didn’t wanna- Why are you looking at me like that?”

This look is different, like Roman’s stumbled onto an intimate scene he’s not meant to be part of. That one wrong move may cause it to collapse.

“Seth is in the tub?”

“Yea.” He looks back to Seth who still has that same expression on his face. “Say something.”

“I’m sorry, Dean.” Seth whispers.

“Dean.” Roman says, regaining his attention. “Dean… there’s no one there.”

“What’re you talking about? He’s right here.” He wants to smack the looks off both of their faces. Why were they acting like this? “Stop it!”

“You’re all fucked up, Dean.” Seth says softly, getting up from the tub. “But that doesn’t change anything I’ve said.”

He crosses the small bathroom, walks straight through Roman and into the main room. Dean shakes his head over and over. This doesn’t make sense. He and Seth… He loves Seth.

He’s tired.

He’s just very tired, that’s all.

“Dean…” Roman cautiously kneels down but it’s too much too quick. 

Dean screams trying to shove him away. This isn’t happening. He might be screwed up but he’s not this far gone. Roman tries to calm him down and Dean hits him across the jaw. He needs to get out of the bathroom and find Seth and make him explain what the fuck is going on. The room starts to spin, he needs to leave but he can’t keep his balance. Seth’s name spills from his lips moments before the world goes dark.

 

Dean’s used to waking up hollow. Wanting to burrow under the sheets and disappear for hours. Right now he feels disjointed, like nothing fits and he wants to yell until his throat’s raw.

“You’re going to be fine, Dean.” Seth says sitting on the floor beside the bed.

Oh.

And then there’s that.

Dean quickly sits up looking around for Roman. The front door is open a crack, Roman’s voice outside, presumably on the phone while he paces back and forth.

“The fuck is going on?” He whispers. “You… I don’t understand.”

“You were lonely.” Seth explains, moving to sit beside him. Dean swears he can see the bed dip as he does. “You needed someone.”

“It doesn’t- We met at a party. There were tons of people there.”

“We met in a bathroom. By ourselves… by yourself.”

“But we kissed, I felt it.” And god does he sound so damn heartbroken. It’s pathetic. “We’ve fucked.”

“Have I ever fucked you?” Seth asks. “Think about it.” 

Dean doesn’t respond, desperately trying to piece this together. “What about the strip club? You brought me there. You have a job.” 

“You saw me walking around. I never once danced on the main stage, remember? You went there on your own, Dean.”

“I didn’t... I don’t remember.”

“Of course you don’t.” Seth rolls his eyes at him, almost bored having to explain this to him. “You block out anything you don’t wanna remember. Calling Roman, the strip club, the accident. Should I even call it that?”

“How do you- I never told you… fuck.” Dean begins to shake. He was fine a month ago. Sure, he was depressed and maybe he was at the end of his rope but all of this was too much.

Seth was supposed to save him.

“I’m not judging you. Hell, that might’ve been when you made me. Your first taste of death.” Seth gives him that beautiful smile that makes him think of red neon lights and the promise of new life. 

What the hell was he going to do now?

“Nothing has to change.” Seth tells him “You just have to ditch Roman and then we can leave.”

“We? What does that even mean?” Dean looks to the door, it’s getting hard to breathe.

He needs to call for Roman. Or just run. Get as far away as he can. Would that even work?

“You wanted me here. You _need_ me.” Seth stands before him, glare set. “You can’t just get rid of me cause you’re scared!”

“I don't…” Dean shakes his head, wrapping his arms around himself. “Maybe I stayed under too long. Maybe I’m dead. ...Am I dead?”

Seth sighs at him, anger falling away. “You wanted to know if I was scared of loving you...” He reaches out cupping Dean’s cheek. “I’ve always loved you. But you’re weak, and you-” 

The door opens and Dean turns to see Roman walking in, bruise forming at his jaw. He’s got on an expression of forced calm that makes Dean’s stomach twist. He looks back to where Seth should be but isn’t, a helpless laugh rips from his throat. 

“...He said he loved me.”


	12. Chapter 12

“You should’ve let me drown.” Dean says sitting across from Roman. They’re tucked away in the diner Sami took him a few weeks ago. Back then all he wanted was to go home to Seth. Now he wasn’t sure if he wanted to return to his apartment ever again. 

“Don’t say that.”

“I mean it, probably would’ve been for the best.”

They left Dean’s place that day, he couldn’t handle being there a second longer. Every inch of the place reminded him of Seth. It’s painful and embarrassing. How far gone he actually is. 

“We’re going to figure this out, ok?” Roman tries to reassure him but how can this be fixed.

Dean wants to laugh. “I’m in love with my imaginary boyfriend who’s mean to me. I’m a fuckin’ goner.”

Roman frowns for a fraction of a second then puts on an undeterred face. “There are doctors that handle stuff like this, Dean. We’ll find someone.”

“Yea, and they’ll say I should be locked up or something, right? I don’t… I know what I said before but... he wasn’t always bad.”

“Dean,” Roman’s voice grows gentle, he hates it, “he’s not real.” 

“You know, if you hadn’t shown up I wouldn’t’ve found out. I could’ve been happy.” It’s a pointless jab that Roman doesn’t deserve. He doesn’t know what to do. What to think. 

Are his thoughts even safe anymore?

“You tried to hurt yourself.” Roman reminds him, calmly as he can. 

“Better than finding out I’m crazy.”

“You’re not crazy.” He says and Dean huffs a laugh. “You’re not. We’re going to get help and you’ll-”

“Stop.” Dean cuts in. “Just stop. I really- I have a headache…”

Dean hides his face in his hands trying to calm his breathing. His mind.

“Good luck with that.” Seth says beside him.

He shuts his eyes tighter. Seth’s not here. It’s all in his head. Maybe if he concentrates hard enough he’ll go away. 

“Weren’t you crying cause I’d leave? Now I can always be around. Isn’t that what you want? I’ll remind you, all of this is cause you wanted it. You still do.” 

Dean jumps from the table and dashes out of the diner. He doesn’t look while running through the parking lot. The screech of tires and car honking angrily stop him in his tracks. He stares at the truck inches away from him, wants to puke. Swears he can hear Seth laughing somewhere nearby. Roman grabs him by the arm and pulls him aside.

“I didn’t- I wasn’t trying to… I really wasn’t-” He attempts to tell Roman it was a real accident but the words are all jumbled. “I swear.” 

“It’s ok. It’s going to be ok.”

“It’s not!” A sob tears from his throat, legs wobbling. Roman pulls him into a hug. “What the fuck am I supposed to do?!”

“Just- Just focus on this.” He tightens his hold for emphasis. “I’m right here. Not him.”

He’s not quite sure how long they stand there. Dean tries to stay aware of everything around him. The noise of the street, the taste of the air, Roman’s arms holding him in place. It’s a different kind of warmth than the times he’s been with Seth. 

This is everything Dean didn’t want. Complete proof of how weak he is right after his first taste of the freedom Seth promised.

He was so close.

“I don’t feel good…”

Back in the diner they sit side by side. Roman’s on his phone looking things up in clear view. Dean leans against him keeping in constant contact hoping that it’ll be enough of a distraction to keep Seth away. Glances over in time to see the search terms ‘suicidal hallucination’ on Roman’s phone. 

“I don’t regret it, you know? Drowning myself. I know I should but I don’t. I’m glad I saw, uh, we- I… I’ve been calling it the darkness. It’s, uh-”

“I remember.” Roman says leaving Dean to stare.

“I never told you about that.”

“When you… You really don’t remember?” Roman asks and he shakes his head. “Maybe we shouldn’t talk about it.”

“No, I wanna know.”

Romen lets out an exhale, lowering his phone. “When you wrecked your car. In the hospital you told me you thought you died and that there was nothing waiting for you. You were really... really happy about it. You called it the darkness, said it was beautiful.”

Dean laughs before he can stop himself. He had shoved that memory so far away, labeled it an accident to the point that he genuinely believed it was. Then Seth rehashed some of it as his own suicide and Dean had been amazed by it. How wonderful it sounded. To expect nothing. He had already done it years ago. 

“Look up Dr. Regal.”

“Who’s he?" Roman asks.

“I’m not really sure. But I think I was trying to get help once… before all this.”

They end up spending the night at Sami’s but only after Dean implicitly makes Roman swear he won’t mention Seth. Promises Roman that if he says one word about him that Dean’s gone. It’s bad enough that he’s looked at like he’s hopeless he doesn’t need the added moniquer of crazy, too. Sami hugs him way too tight when they arrive, can tell there’s an apology ready to spill out of him but Dean doesn’t want to hear it. 

In the end he did this to himself.

He made this happen whether he understands it or not. 

The worst thing is how right Seth seems to be about this. Being handled like he’s a step from breaking. Roman staying close and Sami putting on Dean’s favorite kind of movie, cheesy horror films. He should be grateful that his friends care about him this much but all it does is make him feel like a complete failure. Years back he’d lead the charge and now he’s barely a shell of a person.

The proof of it comes at the end of the movie, Freddy Krueger chasing his would be victim through her house. Dean used to love this part, the chaos of it but now he feels sick to his stomach. Then she turns her back on Krueger, tells him that he’s nothing and has no power over her. And just like that he disappears, he can’t hurt her anymore. Dean lets out a broken laugh only then noticing that he’s shaking. Crying. Neither Roman or Sami know what to do and why should they? He’s fucking losing it over a shitty horror movie. 

He manages to convince Roman to let him shower saying he just needs to relax a minute but the other two look unsure. He shouldn’t be alone and he understands that but he can’t stand being stared at any longer. They settle on leaving the door partway open and Dean tries not to feel like a lost child.

The heat of the water feels good, relaxing. But he’s exhausted, mentally and physically, his legs are begging him to sink to the floor. 

“Why are you letting this happen?” Seth says from behind, wrapping his arms around Dean’s waist.

It doesn’t feel the same as Roman’s. Dean shuts his eyes trying to focus away from Seth. He created Seth, right? He has to be able to control him somehow.

“Oh, fuck you.” Seth growls in his ear. “This is the thanks I get for helping you?”

“Helping me?” He huffs a pained laugh. “You…”

“You were doing nothing until I came along. You were a zombie. I gave you a new life and you’re turning your back on it.”

“...I don’t want it.”

“Liar!” He shouts making Dean wince. “If you’re so goddamn content why’d you make me?”

Because he was lonely.

Empty.

Desperate.

“We can still run, Dean.” He whispers, almost sweetly. As if he actually cares. “You stay here and they’re gonna lock you away. Do you want that?”

“They won’t. Roman wouldn’t do that.”

“He’s probably out there telling Sami all about me. About how crazy you are. Good thing you’ve got a strong imagination cause you’re gonna need it staring at four walls for the rest of your fucking life.”

“Dean?” Roman calls from the doorway. The water’s getting cold. “You ok in there?”

“You know what really happens at the end of Nightmare on Elm Street, don’t you?” Seth smiles against his neck. “Freddy wins.”

Dean forces open his eyes, he’s alone. “Yea… Almost done.”

He dries himself off, pulls on the borrowed clothes Sami gave him and stares into the mirror. It hurts. He’s lost it and everyone knows. What if Seth was right? What if he was headed for some room with the locks on the outside. Remembers the look on Roman’s face when Dean told him Seth was there with them in the bathroom.

Terrified. Hurt. Disappointed? Dean had done all that on his own, apparently. Sticking around would only cause more grief but leaving might do the same. A new life and a sense of control was just a fucking pipedream. Seth would tell him it doesn’t have to be. That he had a choice.

Stay or run.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to say thanks to all of the awesome comments last chapter. Thank you guys so much for reading this. I also wanted to make a note that while I will keep trying to maintain weekly updates things are getting a little hectic on my end and this may shift to an update every two weeks. Thanks for your patience!


	13. Chapter 13

The morning is a blur. The afternoon is just as bad. Dean doesn’t say much, answers when he has to. It’s getting harder to focus. He hasn’t seen or heard Seth but he can feel him. Like he’s lingering, waiting for the right time.

The worst thing is part of him wants to go back to the apartment. Go back to bed with Seth and tell the world to leave them alone. Leave him alone.

More than likely nothing can be done for him, so why are they trying? But that’s the keyword of the day ‘try’ and Dean’s going to even if he drags his feet on their way to Dr. Regal’s. He’s not sure how long it takes to get there, growing tunnel vision staring at the ground watching his feet. It doesn’t really matter all he knows is that it’s too sudden. Desperately wants to turn back.

The building looks vaguely familiar which only makes him all the more anxious. “What if I don’t wanna go?”

“If you don’t like him we can find someone else.” Roman tells him. “Just try, ok?”

Dean huffs a laugh, he’s a little kid being asked to eat broccoli. Just try it, it’ll be good for him.

When they go in they give the receptionist his name and a few seconds later she smiles. “Welcome back.”

“What?”

“Your file’s still here.” She says in a pleasant tone. “Just need to verify everything.”

“Can you do that?” Dean asks Roman, his body growing so tense he thinks he may vomit. “Bathroom.”

“Dean…”

“Gotta piss. Can do it on my own unless you wanna hold it.” He knows he shouldn’t be so harsh, he’s ready to apologize but his legs are already moving.

He manages not to puke in the bathroom. Splashes water on his face and attempts to regain himself. It’ll be ok. Roman’s there for him, and so is Sami, both of them wanting him to get better. But is that even possible?

“What the fuck are you doing here, Dean?” Seth asks, startling him. 

Dean turns to see him leaning back against the wall, arms crossed, eyes narrowed in annoyance. He’s wearing the same outfit from New Year’s, clothing soaked through like he just got out of the bathtub the met in. Eyes glassy, drunk off their shared cherry vodka. Dean wants to walk over, kiss him, taste Seth on his tongue. 

“Getting help.” He doesn’t say ‘getting rid of you’ but Seth knows. Glares right through Dean ready to pounce. 

“Because those fuckers you call friends think I’m the bad guy, right? I did exactly what you wanted! It’s not my fault your head’s all fucked up!”

“You said you loved me.” Of course he brings up the stupidest thing. The saddest thing. Something he wishes could be true. “What does that mean to you?”

“It means I’ll still be there when your friends dump your ass in a padded cell.” Seth answers with an air of exasperation as though he should know this by now. “Make a decision, Dean.”

He runs out before Seth can stop him. The only response he can give hurts. Dean’s there to get rid of Seth. It’s what’s needed. What’s good for him. But he doesn’t want to let go yet.

He barely makes it back to the waiting room when he’s called and every ounce of him wants to run. But Roman offers an encouraging smile and Dean’s fucked up enough to at least try to do one thing right.

“Hello, Dean.” Dr. Regal greets him. “It’s nice to see you again.”

Dean looks over the room. Two sofas facing each other, a coffee table in the middle. Bookshelves fully stocked from the floor to the ceiling. A large window view of the street shielded by a thin curtain. It’s an off white cream color that matches the walls. Some kind of neutral pleasing to the eye color that Dean swears he’s mentioned before but the memory is fuzzy, dreamlike. 

“I don’t remember coming here before.” Dean says taking a seat on the opposite sofa. “Not really.”

“What do you remember?”

Dean shrugs. “Not much. Your name. The color of the walls. Feel like I wanted to climb up that bookshelf.”

Dr. Regal smirks at the last comment. Had Dean actually done that once?

“Do you remember the reason why you came here?”

Again he shrugs. “No clue.”

“We can start there if you’d like.”

Dean nods, his shoulders still tense. It feels like Seth is watching him. Angry at him. 

Dr. Regal holds a notebook in his hands, scans through the pages as he sums Dean up. “You can in about six months ago saying you were having trouble controlling your thoughts. That you couldn’t focus. Does that sound familiar?”

Dean can’t even muster the energy to laugh. Just sits there, lips parted staring vaguely ahead. Six months ago. Back then he was laying in bed most days. Go to work, come home, drink a bit, lay in bed until it was time to go to work again. Occasionally Sami would drag him out for a night with friends and for the first hour Dean would try his hardest to smile and and be the person he used to be. But by then he was already fading. 

Six months ago was just the beginning. When words of escape and running weren’t sweet but frightening. He wanted to get help and he tried but the noise was too loud. It had taken shape waiting for it’s moment. A bathroom on New Year’s Eve.

“Dean?” 

“It got worse.” He mumbles, looking down at the floor. “...Got a lot worse.”

Dean isn’t sure how to put it, say what he needs to say. Really, he’s just scared. He doesn’t want to be hauled away or so drugged up he’s worse than a zombie. Seth was wild but Dean was no longer sitting on the sidelines, Dean was actively trying to be part of his own damn life again. But they went overboard. Seth… Dean, where did one start and the other begin? 

“I, uh…” There’s no way around this. He could run but what would that do? “I’m seeing things... well- uh, a person. Just one person.”

In the back of his mind he pictures Seth breaking the last remnants of his apartment. Kicking over his tv, throwing bottles at the walls, probably pissing on his bed to top it off.

Dr. Regal closes the notebook his full attention on Dean. “When did this start?”

“‘Bout a month ago. ...We met at a party.”

He keeps it as brief as possible because every second of it hurts. Seth wanted to show him there was freedom in giving up everything. Death wasn’t to be feared but embraced. That they were going to live a life of chaos and fun. And it was. But his friends got in the way.

Dean glances up from the floor that he’s been staring for who knows how long. 

“It’s not their fault. But I… I don’t wanna talk about this anymore.”

“I have a few questions. You don’t have to answer but I want you to think about them.” He pauses for a moment still watching Dean. “When you see Seth, what do you feel in that moment?”

Dean thinks of saying nothing but then there’s that word again. Try. “Excited. But it’s scary. No, not scary. ...Like I can’t keep balance.”

“And if I asked how you feel about your friends?”

“Are you trying to prove something?” Dean quickly asks. 

“Just a question.” He keeps a calm tone but Dean feels uneasy. 

“I told you it’s not their fault. It’s mine. They’re just trying to help. That’s why I’m here, so you can say ‘You’re real fucked up, Dean’ and have me sent away.”

“Do you think they want you to be hospitalized?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Ok.” Dr. Regal backtracks. “Are you worried that they think that?”

“Are we done yet?”

He glances at his watch. “A few minutes.”

“...Do you think I should be sent away?”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. From what you’ve said you understand that Seth is an hallucination. Knowing that and how he affects you is going to play a large part in regaining control. Right now it’s too early to suggest-”

“I tried to kill myself.” Dean blurts out. “I wanted to prove to him that I could. I don’t regret it, not that I’m gonna go jump off a cliff so… I just needed it.” 

While Dr. Regal is processing what he’s said Dean’s already standing up. “I’ll be fine. I’m with friends. Sure they already set another fucking appointment, so… Guess I’ll see you then.”

It’s probably too much all at once but the tidal wave isn’t going to slow itself down just because he’s anxious. 

He and Roman walk side by side on the way back to Sami’s. For a little while they say nothing but Dean knows Roman’s itching to ask.

“It was fine. He’s ok.” Dean says as they stand at the crosswalk.

“So you’d been there before?”

“Yea, apparently I had trouble controlling my thoughts.” 

And Dean snorts a laugh that never fails to make Roman giggle. It’s not funny but he can’t help it. Everything’s a mess and all he can think of is Seth’s words _‘let it burn to the ground’._

“Why are you trying to help me?” Dean asks. “You have your own life.”

“Told you before, you’re my best friend. I want you to be ok.”

“I might’ve been.” He argues as if Roman will actually agree. 

“You were crying when you called me.” Roman reminds him, serious tone in his voice leaving no room for further questions. “You weren’t ok.” 

He’s right. Dean knows that but it’s all so overwhelming. Drowning himself felt easier than this. 

It’s not their fault, Dean reminds himself even though it’s hard to be around Roman and Sami that night. He knows they’re trying to help but Dean’s not sure he wants it or knows how to accept it. What if help means not only losing Seth but himself too? It could be a clean slate or it could a disaster.

Being with Seth felt electric. But Dean was so damn hesitant. If he could just have another go at it he’d take off running.

“Then let go.” Seth’s voice comes in at whisper. Sweet. Tempting. 

Dean yawns, curling up on the couch. Drifting away from the worried looks and constant building pressure. Away from the fear of what lies ahead. Away from reality.

In his dreams he’s with Seth at the strip club. The music’s loud and they’re sitting by the bar.

“It’s slow tonight.” A smile growing on Seth’s face as an idea sparks. “We could go into one of the rooms and have a little fun. You can pretend to be one of those douchebags that like being called daddy.”

Dean laughs, warmth passing through him. “Would rather see you dance.”

“Yea?” Seth hops off the barstool and extends a hand to him. “C’mon then.”

It’s too hot. Suffocating. Dean opens his eyes to darkness and for a moment he’s in shock. It can’t be. But he quickly regains himself, tugs away at the large blanket covering him. He’ll roll his eyes at Roman later for throwing the whole damn thing over him. Only, he’s not on the couch anymore. Or Sami’s apartment.

It’s the kind of hotel room you get fucked or murdered in. Sometimes both. 

An arm snakes around his waist, Seth giving a content sigh. “Knew you’d make the right choice.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for blood and injuries.  
> \----

“Don’t act so shocked.” Seth whispers kissing at his neck.

“How did… I don’t-” Dean slips out of Seth’s arms sitting up.

He shivers, the cool air on his bare body, sweat drenched sheets clinging to him as he tries to grasp his surroundings. The room is lit with dingy yellow bulbs attached to a sad broken vanity mirror. Years of cigarette smoke hangs in the air, crawling down his throat and settling in his lungs. This room would’ve been something special in the fifties. Now it’s just a sad memory.

“How do you think you got here, Dean?”

He doesn’t remember. He was tired, physically and mentally beyond measure. Wanted to rest. Escape. 

“See? You’re right where you wanna be.”

“No. I don’t- I don’t want this.”

Seth pulls himself up, exasperated glare on his face directed right at him. “Those lies might work on Roman, but not me. Are you forgetting who you’re talking to?”

An empty room.

He’s talking to an empty room.

“Oh don’t give me that shit.” Seth sighs. 

“I wanna get better.”

“Better by who’s standards? What they say or what you think?”

It’s just an argument with himself. Dean knows that, for the most part. But the question is still there. Does he just want Roman and Sami to give him their stamp of approval? Or is it Seth telling him that? His subconscious that couldn’t stay stagnant any longer. 

“No. No, they’re not like that.” Dean argues. “They’re worried. They want me to be ok.” 

“Ok? So when you get rid of me everything’ll be sunshine and smiles? You really fucking believe that?”

“I need to leave.” He tries to move away from the bed when Seth grabs his wrist.

“Dean…” His voice goes soft. Gentle in a way he’s never heard. Is he beginning to worry? “Stop. Just stop.”

Everything’s a mess and here he is about to have a goddamn heart to heart with his imaginary boyfriend. As though there’s any chance of a simple solution coming out of this. He can’t make everyone happy. He can’t even trick himself into happiness. Just a losing battle to keep his reality at bay and now it’s in his face leaving Dean wondering what he’s supposed to feel.

Thank everyone for taking the one thing Dean thought he had and showing him that it meant nothing? No, that’s not quite right, it meant that they thought he was insane. And he’s supposed to be ok with that. He’s supposed to be ok with being exactly where he was a year ago. Living by default. 

He sinks back onto the bed, laying on his side and resting his head in Seth’s lap. “You’re right I’m all fucked up.”

“You are,” Seth agrees, running his fingers through Dean’s hair, “but it doesn’t have to be a bad thing.”

“What? Run off into the sunset with my imaginary boyfriend? Because that’s gonna work?” 

“You ran last night cause you were sick of them staring at you. That’s gonna be your whole fucking life if you go back.”

He’s right. 

Dean may very well be headed toward a room he’s not allowed out of or he can stay here and purposefully lock himself away until the line between him and Seth completely falls apart. Weeks from now Roman will find him laying in a heap, covered in his own vomit. Either drank himself to death or on the way to. 

No matter what Dean doesn’t get to win.

“I Love you…" Ache evident in Dean's voice. "And I wanna stay, but-”

“No.”

“Seth, I can’t-”

“I said no!” He grips Dean’s hair tightly, nearly making him wince. “You wanted freedom and I gave it to you and now, what, it’s too scary?”

He needs to get up. Think this through. Know that this is him arguing with the surrounding air. That the hand in Dean’s hair is probably his own. He slips free, stumbling off the bed while Seth glares at him. This should be Seth’s cue to leave, tell Dean he isn’t worth it and disappear into the night. Only, everything’s fucked and Seth isn’t going anywhere.

“I would if I could.” Seth answers him. “Tell that to your fucking therapist. Even your hallucinations don’t wanna hang out with you.” 

Dean reaches for his clothing near the bed searching through hoping to find his phone and coming up with nothing. He must’ve left it back at Sami’s. Tries not to think of how much they’re probably panicking because of him. Do they already think he’s dead? Thrown himself in front of a bus or off a building. 

Is that where they are? The hotel from weeks ago?

“You really liked it.” Seth says with a smile. “If Roman hadn’t called you would’ve gotten on that ledge. ...And now you wanna crawl right back to him.”

He ignores the look of disdain and glances around the room. The phone on the nightstand. This may be the final nail in the coffin that sends him away but there’s no other choice. He can’t stay here. 

“Dean, don’t.” Seth warns as he pushes himself up. “Dean, if you-”

Seth doesn’t finish his sentence and Dean never makes it to the phone. Suddenly he’s on the ground, Seth on top of him. Can feel the weight of him straddling his hips. This can’t be happening but he can’t get up. Is it because he wants this? Wants to be yelled at and told to embrace being broken. That there’s no hope for him.

“Is this what you meant by saving me?”

“You need me.” Seth growls. “You can’t just get rid of me!” 

He wants to scream. Break everything in the room. Launch himself out of the fucking window. He’s so damn tired of this endless fight. So fucking exhausted, ready to collapse in on himself. And then he laughs. Grins right at Seth.

“What’s so funny?”

“All of this.” He sucks in a breath, eyes watering. “Everyone’s promising something. Doesn’t matter if it’s you or Roman… I don’t want this anymore.”

Seth watches him as though deciding what to say. Maybe Dean should already know. He’s the one thinking this up, isn’t he? 

“What happens to you if I die?” Dean asks and he’s smiling again. The most wonderful realization dawning on him. A no brainer smacking him right in the face. 

They’re trapped together. 

“All these weeks of chickening out now suddenly you wanna slit your wrists?” Narrowing his eyes in annoyance. 

“You scared?”

Seth cups his cheek. “I know you, Dean. You’re not gonna go hang yourself in the closet. That’d hurt your friends feelings.”

It’s funny, days ago he would’ve loved being here with Seth. Feel warm and alive as he fucked him into the mattress. He’s never wanted someone so badly. Still does, considering where he is. Except this won’t end well. No matter the choice it hurts. But at least there’s light at the end of the tunnel of one of them.

Maybe. 

He just needs to get to the phone. 

“Stop being so stupid.” Seth leans down on him. “You don’t need them.”

Dean tries to ignore him. He can figure this out, just needs to think. Understand. Seth isn’t the one in control, he never was. Can feel him instantly tense and with a hard shove Dean sends Seth toppling backward off of him.

“You stay the fuck away from me.” Dean says in the firmest voice he can muster getting onto his feet and stepping back toward the phone, his eyes never leaving Seth.

To his amazement Seth doesn’t move as if stuck to the spot. Glaring at him as he calls Roman’s phone. It only takes one ring. He sounds so worried, guilt hits like a brick to the chest. Dean tells him where he is, knows he can never apologize enough for all the trouble he’s caused his friends. Roman tells him to stay on the line, keep talking. Stay focused. 

Of course Dean can’t follow one simple instruction. It’s the genuine concern in Roman’s voice distracts him. The guilt followed by self loathing wrapping around him. The tiredness in his limbs and he’s falling forward, being pulled. The phone slipping from his grip as he stares into Seth’s eyes.

“You’re so fucking useless!” He yells, pushing at him. “You’re just gonna throw all this away?!”

His very presence oozing anger. Growing vicious at the possibility of being cast aside, Seth isn’t going to give up that easy. It’s hard to keep balance with Seth bearing down on him stepping backward until he trips. Smashes into the already cracked vanity mirror sending broken pieces everywhere. Spikes of pain screaming out all over his bare skin. The room blurs around him. Seth fading and popping back into view. 

And again Dean can’t help but laugh.

“All this?” He holds out his arms. “Losing my mind? Chasin’ chaos cause this is so great, right?”

“Go ahead. Blame me.” Seth sneers. “I’m what you made me to be. You hate yourself and you’re sick of everyone patting you on the head and saying ‘Oh Dean, it’s ok, you’ll be ok’. You’re not! You wanted to tear yourself apart but you needed a push. That’s where I came in. I gave you what you wanted.”

Freedom in the darkness. 

“Well, maybe I don’t want it anymore.” 

“You don’t mean that.” Seth gives a tilt of his head, jaw set. There’s a hint of something else, though. Worry?

“I wanna get better.”

Seth steps forward, kneeling down onto the broken pieces of mirror. There’s no reflection. His anger flipping back to softness. “Dean, you’re fucking crazy.” 

“I mean, I’m in love with someone like you so…” Dean traces a finger along a shard of glass. 

The burn of a cut along his index finger makes him exhale a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

Dean looks him in the eyes. In what dream did he decide on the exact shade of brown? How wide and how expressive they can be when not accompanied with an air of smugness. “You’re scared.” 

But he tries. “I’m not scared of anything.”

“Liar. You sweet talked death but you let me call Roman. You just didn’t expect him to show up. To actually give a fuck.” 

“Where are you going with this, Dean?”

“You wanted me to live. Be free so we could set the fuckin’ world on fire. Or ourselves, I dunno. But… You need me. More than I need you.”

“You really think that?” Seth asks but he already knows the answer. The tension in shoulders. The cocky smile now fractured. 

“Yea, I do.” Dean’s voice shakes but to his surprise he means it. Deep down feels it. “That’s why it needs to stop.”

It hurts. Seth made him feel so much. Longing and excitement. Dragged Dean out of the pit he was in and threw him into a gritty world to escape to. It was amazing, exactly what Dean thought he needed but he was wrong. Ending up in this hotel room is proof of that. That he can’t make heads or tails of things and whether he likes it or not the only way out is through. As badly as Dean wants it to be true, Seth can’t save him. 

All those times he felt Seth’s hands on him. The raking of nails across his chest. It felt so real. But whose hands were they? When Seth grabs a sharp piece of the mirror is it Dean’s hands?

“We’ll go together.” He pulls at Dean’s hand. It’s in the blink of an eye and slow deep breath. “It’ll be more fun that way.”

Searing white hot pain shoots his gaze down to his hands. They’re covered in blood, the shard of mirror clutched in his right hand hovering above a deep gash across his left wrist. 

“You should do your neck before they get here. Or when they walk in.” Seth grins, tears rolling down his face. “I don’t wanna go by myself.”

For a brief moment Dean thinks of letting go. Drifting away into the darkness. Even if they got to him before he passed out there’s nothing left to say. He’s lost it. Destined to a little room where the windows don’t open. 

But he can’t give up. 

Not yet. 

Dean drops the glass and grips his wrists tightly as he can. “No... If I’m gonna fuckin’ die I don’t want you here.”

It feels good to see Seth’s face drop. Hurt. Rejected. There’s banging on the door. Familiar voices, but Dean’s attention stays on Seth.

“I want you to leave me alone.” He seethes, vision blurring, Dean presses on. “Disappear and never come back.”

The door crashes open. Roman and Sami standing at the threshold looking horrified. Dean smiles at them, turns to look ahead and is met with an empty room. He’s hit with a wave of relief. He did it. Stood on the ledge, stared into oblivion and came back. But there’s something else, something expected and inescapable.

Heartbreak.


	15. Chapter 15

Dean still thinks about it sometimes. Lies in bed that extra hour some mornings and dreams about it. The life that could've been.

Las Vegas. Living in some shit hole one bedroom apartment. The kind of place where if you're short on rent all you need to do is open wide and act grateful. This is their paradise. Dean and Seth’s dream home with windows that have been previously nailed shut and a front door that doesn’t close quite right. 

They’re happy. They’re in love.

Seth gets a job at a strip club far off strip. A square box of a building with an out of business strip mall next door. It’s a place for locals who can’t afford the niceties of the strip. The people that go there don’t go for glamour, they go for warmth. Stuff some bills down a dancer’s shorts and feel a little less alone for an hour. Dean works the bar and watches men drool over Seth. 

Puts on a smile when Seth brings some new lost soul. “Pour us something strong, he needs it.”

Some nights Dean stays home. Lets static from their sad excuse of a TV fill the space until Seth comes back in the early hours, triumphant lopsided grin on his face. He’s stunning and reeks of spilled liquor.

“Had a real charmer tonight.” Seth says settling on Dean’s lap. “Wants you to beg so he can feel like he matters.”

They share a kiss, Seth’s lips soft and sweet.

“Should’ve seen him. Poured champagne over me. Told me to call him daddy.” He laughs while Dean rests his hands on Seth’s sides. “What a sad man.”

“Yea?” Dean questions nipping at his lip after their next kiss.

“What? I’m not allowed to make fun of customers anymore? I wouldn’t call him sad if he followed through with the shit he said. You can see it in their eyes. Tomorrow morning he’ll be filled with regret. Ashamed of himself. Fuck that.” 

This is the Seth he loves. Ready to burn every bridge in the world to keep things exciting. 

“So you want him to embrace being a creep pouring champagne on young men?” 

“Least he’d be having fun.” Seth grins.

That special keyword. Because without it what’s the point? Boredom is the true death. Having Seth on his lap rocking against him Dean would have to agree.

“You’d make an excellent cult leader, know that? He says and Seth laughs. 

“Maybe when I’m done stripping.” He agrees with a rushed kiss, exhaling a moan. “Imagine commanding people to chug down fruit punch with cyanide. Now that would be something.”

And of course Dean has to ask. “Would you give me a cup?”

Seth thinks about it a moment. “I dunno. But we should definitely go together.”

“Murder suicide.” He suggests. 

“Perfect.”

Dean’s never been so in love.

“...We could’ve had this, you know.” Seth whispers and Dean’s heart fractures.

“Stop.” His nails dig into Seth’s sides, breaking the skin. 

“Why won't you look at me?”

“Please…”

He wants to hold onto this, if just a few more minutes.

“They make you ignore me and I know you don’t want to. Dean-”

“ **Stop!** ”

It doesn’t happen every morning. Once, maybe twice a week. Quick footsteps followed by the doorknob rattling as it twists is the official start to Dean’s morning. Roman opens the door concerned look on his face asking if he’s alright. Dean excuses it as a bad dream and Roman retreats back to the main room leaving Dean’s doorway wide open.

It’s the subtleties that sometimes hurt the most. 

It’s understandable. They’ve only lived together for two months. Dean needs it. Needs to understand that it isn't out of lack of trust on Roman’s part. Roman wants him to get better. He wouldn’t have taken Dean in as opposed to committing him if he had thought otherwise. 

Amazingly, neither Roman or Sami let the idea get further than a mention. But it was clear Dean couldn’t be left alone and while Sami offered Roman insisted. 

Roman’s apartment is nice, clean, everything in its place. Plenty of windows letting in sunlight. Almost too much. He can’t tell Roman how he can barely stand it at times. A desire to break things emerges. Make a mess. Puke on the carpet. 

Instead he looks at Roman and says. “I don’t feel well.”

The words have essentially become code. _‘I can’t speak. My head’s a mess.’_

They’ve settled down onto a routine quickly after Dean moved in. Three days a week Roman has classes therefore three days a week Dean needs to be kept busy. Like a fucking child being signed up for activities. Only, it’s therapy, by himself or with a group. Busy little work programs that force him to be social. 

It’s all a monitoring process. Day to day on how things are. Dean wishes he was more interesting, have whimsical hallucinations like miniature technicolor giraffes instead of one very specific person. Someone that still hovers around. A ghost, faint, waiting in the shadows.

After the hotel Seth had seemed to vanish for a while. Dean wanted to believe that would be the end of it. He was hurt, headed for the hospital, but it was done. Roll credits. 

Of course it wouldn’t be so simple. Dean panicked the first time Seth reappeared, froze in place. But so did Seth, stood across from him in the living room simply watching Dean.

“You’re not here.” He whispered, getting no response. “You’re not… You’re not here.” 

In a blink he was gone, just not for long. Except Seth was different now. Never spoke, only stared, waiting for Dean to acknowledge him. So he didn’t. He’d look away, focus elsewhere. Start a badly composed conversation with Roman that may as well have been cries for help.

“What does he say?” Roman asked one day. So out of the blue Dean had no idea how to respond.

“Who?”

“Seth.”

“Nothing.” He answered quickly and before Roman could question him Dean continued on. “It’s not- He’s there he just doesn’t talk. I dunno, it’s like he’s waiting or somethin’.”

“That sounds… Sounds like he’s trying to push back. How’s he acting?”

“Feels like he’s hurt. I rejected him, you know, and I guess I sorta made him unstoppable if that…” Then and now Dean had a tough time talking about Seth to Roman. “It was hard to say no is what I mean. Never really wanted to.” 

It’s all a monitoring process.

Oh, look the ghost is back staring at Dean with pleading eyes.

_Let me back in._  
_Let me back in._  
_Let me back in._

Seth doesn’t have to speak for Dean to know what he wants. What Dean wants? He’s gone through two months of dissection, finding the separation between the two of them. A giant checklist with their names at the top. Seth is sadistic. Dean is melancholic. Both are reckless and both want to die.

Then his therapist eyed Dean and asked. “Are you sure about that?”

Turns out they’re both terrified children screaming to be noticed. Both of them are standing on that ledge watching just how far the other will go. Dean giving Seth everything he craved and Seth returning it back. A shared loneliness. 

It could’ve been something nice, sweet, loving, but Dean didn’t want that. If Seth loved him that way Dean would’ve never gotten out of bed. They’d find his body shriveled and thin, starved to death on love. No, Dean wanted to be set on fire. He just needed someone to light the match. Then in came Seth.

It was perfect.

And a goddamn disaster.

“It’s hard.” Dean told his therapist a few weeks back. Stared at his hands. The scar on his wrist. “I know what it was and I don’t want to fall back into it. But, it was kinda… kinda nice? Sometimes.”

Dean’s still shaking off his daydream as he makes that morning’s coffee. Busy work while Roman showers. The scent of coffee replacing the lingering memory of stale smoke and liquor. Nearly drops his mug when he sees Seth casually sitting on the opposite counter. Dean takes a breath, looks away and pours himself a cup. Seth’s appearances only last a short while, by the time Dean takes his first sip he should be gone.

Should be. 

Seth was never one to sit idle. 

“I miss you.” Seth’s voice sounds so different than in his daydreams.

There’s a presence to it. Soft. Mournful. Dean’s heart swells and breaks. His mind screams at him to walk away, ignore Seth and move on with his day. But he looks up and almost melts at the sight of that fucking beautiful smile. 

The love of his life that never really was.

“...I miss you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe it's done! It's been a wild ride ya'll and I have to say thank you so much to everyone who's taken the time to read this story and everyone who's commented I love ya to bits and pieces. Extra special thank you to NerdyAdjacent who listened to my ramble since the beginning and helped me out so much when working on this story. Onto the next adventure!


End file.
